LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



UNITED STATES OF AMEEIf!A. 



Arrows From Two Quivers. 



SERMONS. 



.BY 

R. H. RIVERS, D.D., 

Of the Louisville Conference; 

AND 

H. C. MORRISON, D.D., 

Secretary Board of Missions. 



XJ^/ 



Printed for the Authors. 

Publishing House of the M. E. Church, South. 

Barbee & Smith, Agents, Nashville, Tenn. 

1890. 




■BX'if333 
•'R5-8Ar7 



Copyrighted, 1890. 



DEDICATION, 



To THE LOVEES OF ChRIST THIS WoRK IS 

Dedicated by the 

Authors. 

(3) 



PREFATORY. 



I BESPEAK a generous reception to this book now given to the 
world ; its authors, its aims, its splendid presentation of sacred 
and sublime themes should secure for it high consideration. It 
contains thirty-four discourses contributed by Eev. Richard 
Henderson Rivers, D.D., and Rev. Henry Clay Morrison, D.D., 
seventeen from each, who hope to awaken a deeper interest in 
the true meaning of the gospel, and to throw a clearer light upon 
some of its passages. The discourses will be found to be fresh, 
highly figurative, and illustrative, bringing out in a charming 
way the teaching of the scriptural types and figures. 

The authors are both men of eminence, with ample endow- 
ments for the accomplishment of the great task which they have 
undertaken. Dr. Rivers is a venerable, learned man, distin- 
guished as a preacher and a writer, who brings the treasures 
which he has accumulated in a long life to lay them as a contri- 
bution to this splendid offering to the cause of Christ. 

Dr. Morrison is in the full strength of his manhood ; his fame 
as a preacher extends throughout the country, and now in the 
plenitude of his intellectual power he brings some of the richest 
fruit of his consecrated life to lay his tribute to our Lord by the 
oflering of his venerated friend. 

The book does not undertake to give a didactic statement of 
the doctrines taught in the Scriptures, but is a splendid interpre- 
tation of the gospel, revealing its meaning in a style that capti- 
vates the heart and enlightens the mind. 

There is no attempt at a revelation of new truths : there can 
be no discoveries in the realm of moral science. Men may ex- 
plore continents, or spread their adventurous sails in remote seas 
in the hope of finding unknown islands ; or sweep the heavens 
with the most powerful telescopes in search of some unseen 
planets, but there are no glasses strong enough to bring to view 
the scenery of the celestial world. The revelation from God has 
been made, it is complete, the distance between the visible and 

(5) 



Prefatory, 



invisible realm is too wide to be bridged, and no authentic voice 
will break the silence of the universe to instruct us as to our des- 
tiny. But there are still larger views of what has been revealed to 
obtained; there are broad fields to be surveyed, and the Holy 
Spirit will aid the diligent searcher after truth to find new illus- 
trations of hidden meanings. The angel sent to lead our first 
parents out of the Garden of Eden, after giving them some ideas 
as to their future life outside of their former happy home, left 
them to explore for themselves the wide world before them ; but 
Providence was their guide, and threw light in their pathway. 

Doubtless those who seek to make the revealed word better 
understood— pre-eminently those > who stand in the pulpit to 
preach the everlasting gospel — do receive divine inspiration; 
clearer light breaks upon their vision, and they bring out of the 
deep mysteries which are hidden from others rich views, just as 
the miner who digs into the deep soil with all his vigor brings 
into the light of day the yellow gold that had long been con- 
cealed from human sight. 

The discourses. in this book will attract people of culture, and 
they will linger over the illumined pages. 

I have heard the great preachers of the world — Spurgeon in 
his Tabernacle, Canon Farrar in Westminster Abbey, Henry 
Ward Beecher in his Plymouth Church, and the men of large 
stature in our own South, and their utterances still sound in my 
ears ; many of their words still live on the pages which will be 
read by coming generations. Such appeals ought not to be lost 
to the world. The marble structures of faultless architecture on 
the Acropolis of Athens are but splendid ruins, but the great dis- 
course of St. Paul delivered there will live forever. 

I hope that the noble discourses contained in this volume are 
destined to live beyond our time, and that they will awaken the 
interest and strengthen the hope of those in coming generations 
who look for light in the way that leads to heaven. 

Henry W. Hilliard. 

Atlanta, Ga., July 1, 1890. 



CONTENTS. 



I^ Page 
The Loom of Life 13 



n. 

The Visitor from Edom 23 

nL 

Satan's Sieve - o 35 

IV. 
Glorying in the Cross 45 

V. 
Signs of Eain 55 

VL 
Samson and the Lion 64 

vn. 

The Snare 69 

VIIL 
The Short Bed and Narrow Covering 79 

IX. 
The Scarlet Line 86 

X. 

A Sermonette for Boys 95 

XL 
After Breakfast 99 

(7) 



8 Contents. 

XII. Page 
The Kent Veil 108 

XIII. 
Eshcol Grapes 116 

XIY. 
The Kace to Death 125 

XY. 
Upward and Outward.. ; 133 

XVI. 
The Resurrection : An Easter Sermon 141 

XVII. 
Jacob's Well : A Communion Sermon 148 

XVIII. 
The Work Must Go On 154 

XIX. 
The Water Waif. *. 162 

XX. 

The Wheels in EzekieVs Vision 171 

XXI 
Out of the Den 180 

XXII. 
Worldly Vanity 187 

XXIII. 
The Resurrection Body 198 

XXIV. 
Zion Awake, Strong, Beautiful 211 

XXV. 
Aaron's Rod 216 



Contents, 9 

XXYI. Tage 
The Cloud of Witnesses 225 

XXYII. 
The Good Fight 234 

XXYIII. 
Conflict of Great Principles 246 

XXIX. 
True Liberty 253 

XXX 
Worship 2G2 

XXXI. 
Love Not the World „ 271 

XXXII. 
Sermon for Business Men 280 

XXXIII. 
The River 288 

XXXIV 
The Book Unsealed '. 296 



SELRMONS. 

(11) 



ARROWS FROM TWO QUIVERS. 



THE LOOM OF LIFE. 



"My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle." (Job vii. 6.) 

UNDER a profound sense of life's brevity Job 
finds a domestic simile to express his thought. 
The loom, the web, the flying shuttle — each has a 
voice, and under inspiration's touch they speak to us 
in a language we cannot mistake. 

I. The life loom. 

This invisible structure is of divine origin. Of 
the paradise pattern, unchanged and unimproved 
since God first blew his breath upon it and set it in 
motion, six thousand years have not remodeled its 
intricate machinery. Currents of air and currents 
of blood combine to keep it in motion, and circula- 
tion and respiration will perpetuate its movement 
until the web of human history is woven and com- 
plete. 

This life loom is under God's control, the only 
piece of machinery not committed to our hands. 
He determines the length of the life warp in each 
individual ; and each, alike, fills that warp with woof 
of his own choosing. Thus, while I may not deter- 
mine the length of my life, I do determine its char- 
acter and colorings. I decide what shall fill it up and 
make it what it is. 

(13) 



14 Arrows From Two Quivers. 

1. The shuttle flight makes the iveb. Though so rapid 
as to elude the eye, it makes the web with just that 
speed. The days fly with such velocity that we are 
ever being surprised at finding them gone. Each 
crossing shuttle adds its thread, and each flying day 
adds its length to the life that is passed. The shut- 
tle never crosses the warp twice in the same place, 
but each added thread throws it forward to a new 
crossing. To-day claims its own place, and gives no 
room to to-morrow. To-day fills its page with its 
own history, nor leaves even space that to-morrow 
may write its name. To-morrow is thrown forward 
to find room and lodging for itself. To-day may 
shove its responsibility forward upon to-morrow, 
but to-morrow can throw nothing back upon to-day. 
Of all abused and overburdened days in the calendar 
of human life to-morrow is that day. The man does 
not live who has not abused his to-morrows. Like the 
unfortunate child of disgraced parentage, we doom 
our to-morrows to failure by entailing upon them the 
sins of to-day. 

2. The shuttle's contents color the web. It is the 
thread drawn from the heart of the flying shuttle 
that gives coloring to the web. It is dark, or light, 
or mixed, or varied, by what the shuttle gives forth 
in its flight. 

The warp of life is from God, and has all possibili- 
ties. It may be made any and all colors by the woof 
we weave into it. That which comes out of the heart 
and is woven into the character makes the life what 
it is. Men weave their lives out of their hearts as 
spiders weave their webs out of their bowels, and 
right life can no more be made from a defective heart 



The Loom of Life, 15 



than sound cloth from rotten thread. If the issues 
of the cloth are out of the shuttle, so the issues of 
a man's life are out of his heart ; and that heart 
must pass a divine change before it can give out ma- 
terial for a right life. It is not in the things of the 
carnal nature to make a perfect life. The material for 
a right character must come from above. Heaven 
gets nothing from earth or humanity that it doesn't 
first give. If the sun look down upon the beauty of 
a rose, he must first give light and heat to unfold it. 
If God have the honor of a beautiful life, he must 
first furnish the graces to produce that beauty. The 
graces will all grow in this world's latitudes, but the 
seeds are imported from heaven. 

Fill the fruit-vase with apples, peaches, oranges, 
grapes, and bananas — all ripe and luscious and taste- 
fully arranged, while some of the pendent clusters 
half conceal the vase — and you have an attraction. 
The fruits of the Spirit are sufficient in variety and 
richness to make the life beautiful. But it requires 
time and divine power to eradicate the things of the 
carnal nature and produce the fruits of the Spirit. 
It takes time and toil to transform the wild and tan- 
gled forest into fields and flower-gardens. And so it 
takes time to eradicate the natural and establish the 
spiritual growth in the heart and life. 

It is wonderful to see a great, burly man, mostly 
animal, who has lived under the dominion of his low- 
er nature and given rein to his natural tendencies, 
when he is born of God and begins to grow in an 
upward and better direction. His affections begin 
to lap over his passions ; his love begins to shade 
his ill-temper, the bad things in him withering and 



16 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

dying out of his life, and things "belonging to the 
spirit'* beginning to live and grow in him. The 
strong man becomes patient as the lamb, gentle as 
the mother, artless as the little child. This is right 
life growing out of the heart under the benign influ- 
ence of grace. 

IL What constitutes ijerfect character? 

The aesthetics say: "It takes fineness, fullness, and 
harmony to constitute perfection." Fine silk can as 
easily be made from the filthy flyings of a woolen 
factory as perfect character from the unregenerate 
nature. It is *'from above," and not from nature. 
Only grace can produce fineness. Grace has a trans- 
muting power. It transmutes the forces of nature 
into the Christian graces as the fruit-tree transmutes 
the compost at its roots into the most luscious fruit. 
Let divine grace be implanted in the strong nature 
and it will change the forces of that strong life into 
"love, joy, peace," and all the perfect fruits of the 
spirit. 

1. Fullness, the second element in perfect character, 
is dependent upon the individual. If he be fully 
given up to the transmuting power of the Holy Spirit, 
his entire being will be transformed. His character 
will be full in proportion to the heavenly infiuences 
that he may work into it. Some characters are like 
badly woven cloth, with thin and sleazy places, much 
as some silk fabrics you have seen, with slipped spots, 
commonly called "slip silk" — the sort of man who 
is very good in spots. There is quite an amount of 
"slip silk" in society and in the Church. You don't 
buy the fabric that is slipped. It is at a discount. 
Men do not invest in the character that has slips. 



Tlie Loom of Life. 17 



They want to see the character sound and solid and 
full all the way through ; the character that has the 
fullness of a sound foot-ball, that may be kicked to 
and fro by a score of burly boys, and still rebound 
and come back to its place and fullness after each 
foot-stroke. The ball that has no rebound, but lies 
mashed in at one side, with no power to regain its 
rotundity, is of little worth in the play. 

How often we see a man kicked in at one side! The 
devil or some one else has given him a thrust that is 
more than he can bear, and he never regains his moral 
rotundity; but, like the kicked-in foot-ball, he has 
about half shape and half force on moral lines. 
Some are of little worth after the shock of a great 
trial in their religious life. Blessed is the man who 
has in him enough of the heavenly resilience, the 
divine rebound to "endure all things," to hold his 
moral shape and fullness, despite all the kickings, 
human and infernal. That is the need of the Church 
— meriy full men, men who hold their own in the play 
of life and destiny. 

2. Harmonij. There can be no perfection without 
this third element. The fabric may be of good mate- 
rial, and well woven, but with such disharmony in its 
colors as to destroy its value. Give to the finest fabric 
the penitentiary stripe, and no one will purchase it: 
you destroy its worth. Take the grandest Stein way 
instrument and have one note too high and another 
too low, and Blind Tom can't make music on it. The 
notes all there, but out of tune, out of harmony. 

How frequently we see men who need tuning! 
One is a grand, good man, but he is painfully stick- 
lish for certain insignificant things. Another has a 
2 



18 Arrows from Ttvo Quivers. 

temper keyed a little too higli; another lias a fraction 
too miicli "gush" for genuine sincerity. One man 
has too much of the positive in his make-up; another 
is too negative for success, either in business or re- 
ligion. One hasn't quite patience enough, and an- 
other lacks a decimal of brotherly love. 

How painfully conscious we are of our disharmonies ! 
The remedy is in consecration. Give all to God. 
Put the whole being in the hands of the divine artist. 
Let him adjust the disharmonies and bring us into 
accord with himself, and life becomes a perpetual song. 

3. The central element of character. There is a 
something around which the fullness, jBneness, and 
harmony gather, and by which they stand; that 
which we mean by the word ''stamina." It is from 
the old word "7i^sfem^'," meaning to stand. It is the 
standing power. In the flower it is the upright stem ; 
in the tree it is the ligneous fiber that gives it 
strength; in the man it is moral backbone, and that 
is the bone of all the bones. A man may get on in 
life though he be minus a leg, hand, or arm; and 
we knew a woman to make a fortune who had no 
arms; but we have never known any person to succeed 
without a backbone. It was this moral stamina that 
made Daniel grand in the den, and Job grand on the 
ash-heap. This found expression when Israel's leader 
said: " Let others do as they may; but as for me and 
my house, we will serve the Lord." 

Men after this sort are the need of this compromise 
age — men who stand up and stand out for God, 
Chimborazo-like, towering above the mass that wor- 
ship the world; detached men; men on God's side, 
without waiting to see which side that is. 



The Loom of Life. 19 



Men in politics have grit to stand by their party at 
all costs. The Church needs that manner of courage 
that stands by its colors, cost what it may. Onr 
friends of the world are solicitoiis lest we ministers 
should go into politics. If some of them were as 
anxious to get into religion as they are to keep us out 
of politics, they would have a more comfortable con- 
science, a sweeter breath, and a happier home. 

Too much of the Christianity of the present day is 
of that pliable kind that fits every thing and every- 
where. Mechanics have what they call the " univer- 
sal joint." That is an invention for convenience, by 
which the force of a machine may be turned toward 
all points of the compass — east, west, north, south, 
up, down, every vray. It is a valuable thing in me- 
chanics, but a failure in religion. The life that takes 
all shades, and yet has no decided color — at home, 
everywhere: in the church or at the gaming-club, at 
the Sunday morning sacrament or the Sunday even- 
ing pleasure drive — is never a success. 

This sort of universal godliness is too universal for 
success on gospel principles. He who weaves his life 
on this plan is weaving a mixed fabric: all colors 
mixedly and no color decidedly; a fabric with dark 
and light shades, thick places and thin ones, knaps, 
slips, dropped and broken threads; such a fabric as 
one would not place on exhibition at the State fair. 
And yet life, as we weave it, shall be unrolled and on 
display at the final day. 

4. We iveave what we ivear. The life web, having 
passed the judgment inspection and judgment sen- 
tence, will then become our own apparel, and we shall 
wear it through eternity just as we have woven it. 



20 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

Like tlie days of the Confederate struggle, wherein 
our wives and mothers wove what we wore, so in this 
life's struggle we make and weave what we wear in 
the future. 

It is a great mistake to conclude that God will 
surprise us in the resurrection with a new garb 
of such resplendence as we have never dreamed. 
He has but one new robe for us, and that is " immor- 
tality." It will be the same old character, and even' 
the same old body, made immortal. "This mortal 
must put on immortality." This body, this individ- 
uality, shall be made immortal. Just as I am, just as 
I have made my character, just as I have woven the 
life web, shall I remain to eternity. I made it, gave 
it its texture and its coloring; and now God makes it 
immortal, sets the colors, and it becomes the garb of 
my eternity. 

Then are you willing to wear your own colors? 
Society is sometimes shocked at the incoming of 
some " loud " style. I dare say that if some were sud- 
denly made immortal in the life colors which they 
are now weaving, and were introduced into celestial 
society, it would produce a sensation in the glorified 
circles. 

Imagine yourself in heaven dressed out in all the 
inconsistences and secret sins and petty meannesses 
of your life, all in full colors and hanging as so much 
tormenting toggery about you, and you in the midst 
of those who are in "white robes." The Master 
gave your experience when he painted the portrait 
of the guest without the "wedding garment." God 
will not bring us into this society until we have 
done as did the white-robed company, " washed our 



The Loom of Life, 21 



robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." 
Haste, then! " Wash and be clean," ere you be made 
immortal in your sins! 

Finalli/, God is seeking to make us better. The 
sun is ever trying to draw out the little seeds from 
the earth and clothe them with new beauty; trying 
to coax out the daisies, and unfold the hyacinths, and 
bring out the blushing clover-blossoms, and ripen the 
wheat, and redden the fruits, and make the face of 
nature lovely and beautiful. 

God is our sun, ever striving to draw out the best 
things in our nature; trying to color our life and 
character with such hues as will give eternal beauty. 
Then we should love God as the birds and flowers 
love the sunlight. " In winter the birds love to catch 
the last rays of the evening sun; and are found in the 
afternoon upon the banks facing the west, or swinging 
on the topmost boughs of the trees. On the mount- 
ains, as the sun gets low, the birds take to the 
slopes that face west; while in the morning they 
betake themselves to the eastern slopes to meet the 
sun's rays. The golden plovers ascend from slope 
to slope as each becomes shaded by the intervening 
heights, until they collect on the very last ridge on 
which the evening sun can fall." 

Shall we live by the beautiful lesson? Seek to live 
in the light of God as the birds in the light of the sun. 
Let each thread in the life web be woven in that 
light, and we shall thereby detect any thing that 
should not go into the fabric. The web woven in 
this light will stand the judgment light, and will do 
to wear in eternity. 

When the earth-mountains fling their shadows, and 



22 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

it begins to grow dark, let us then, like the golden 
plovers, ascend to a higher slope; let each gathering 
shadow drive us up higher until life shall close in the 
glory of the setting sun! And let us hasten upward, 
*'for our days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle." 

M. 



II. 

THE VISITOR FROM EDOM. 



" Who is it that cometh from Edoin, Avith dyed garments from 
Bozrah? this that is glorious in his apparel, traveling in the great- 
ness of his strength? I that speak in righteousness, mighty to save. 
Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy garments like 
him that tread eth in the wine-fat? I have trodden the wine- 
press alone ; and of the people there was none with me. (Isaiah 
Ixiii. 1, 2, and first clause of third verse.) 

rr^HE dramatic power of this passage is unsur- 
-L passed. The prophet, while standing in silent 
meditation, suddenly beholds a wonderful personage. 
Startled by the unexpected vision, he inquires: 
" Who is it that cometh from Edom, with dyed gar- 
ments from Bozrah? this that is glorious in his ap- 
parel, traveling in the greatness of his strength ? " He 
is answered by the Being who has attracted his atten- 
tion and called forth the inquiry: "I that speak in 
righteousness, mighty to save." 

In the analysis of this passage I hope to show that 
its scope and design are to exhibit Christ as the rep- 
representative of the human race. Throughout the 
Scriptures we are presented with two great represent- 
atives of the human race — Adam and Christ. Says 
St. Paul: "Therefore, as by the offense of one judg- 
ment came upon all men to condemnation; even so by 
the righteousness of one the free gift came upon all 
men unto justification of life. For as by one man's 
[Adam's] disobedience many were made sinners, so 
by the obedience of one shall many be made right- 

(23) 



24 Arrotvs from Two Quivers, 

eous." Sin abounded through Adam, grace has much 
more abounded through Jesus Christ. Through 
Adam sin reigned unto death; through Christ grace 
reigned unto eternal life. Again it is said: "As in 
Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made 
alive." As by man came death, by man came also 
the resurrection of the dead. As he is represented to 
us in the Bible we behold Adam standing amidst the 
graves of his children, palsied by age and corrupted 
by sin; a shade of deepest melancholy is over his face, 
and words of irrepressible sorrow fall from his lips. 
O, wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from 
this body of sin and death? My sin blighted Eden 
and brought death and all our woe. Jesus, girt with 
omnipotence and filled with mercy, responds with a 
voice loud enough to wake the dead and powerful 
enough to annihilate death itself: "I am the resurrec- 
tion and the life." 

1. In the text, Jesus, as our greatest and last rep- 
resentative, appears as coming from Edom with dyed 
garments from Bozrah. He is the representative 
of both Jew and Gentile. Descended from Abra- 
ham, he came also from Euth. Of the descendants of 
Shem, he could represent the poor outcast and de- 
graded sons of Ham and the more elevated and civil- 
ized and intelligent sons of Japheth. The three great 
races may each claim him as theirs. No one people, 
nor tribe, nor language can appropriate him; but all 
may claim him as the universal Saviour. Jacob and 
Esau, Sarah and Kuth, Greek and Indian, the Euro- 
pean and African, may all alike claim him as their 
Saviour, honor him as their representative, and 
crown him as their King. 



The Visitor from Edom, 25 

2. Again, he is represented in dyed garments, 
clothed in the humble garb of a servant, and at the 
same time wearing regal apparel. What a paradox! 
Clothed as a servant and shining in royal apparel. 
The first interrogatory shows him to us as the repre- 
sentative of races, the second as the representative of 
classes. He is a King and a servant. He is as strong 
as the lion of Judah's tribe, and gentle as the most 
delicate woman. He is the Saviour of all. The king 
on his throne may hide himself in his pavilion and 
take refuge beneath his shadow; the ignoble slave 
may trust him as the fountain of light and life and 
liberty. Wealth may look up to him and rejoice; 
poverty may trust in him and become rich. Toil 
may gaze upon him and be eased of its burdens; 
while nobility itself may ascend to a loftier elevation 
by casting all worldly glory at his feet. Youth, amid 
the perplexities of the career upon which with inex- 
perienced feet it is about to enter, may look up to 
him and exclaim: 

Guide me, thou great Jeliovah, 
Pilgrim through this barren land. 

Old age may exclaim: 

I am weak, but thou art mighty; 
Hold me with thy powerful hand. 

Haggard want, with a smile upon the face and joy in 

the s.unken eye, can cry out with holy confidence: 

Bread of heaven, 
Feevd me till I want no more. 

The living can say: 

Whence the healing waters flow, 

Let the fiery, cloudy pillar 
Lead me all my journey through. 



26 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

Strong Deliverer, 
Be thou still my strength and shield. 

And the dying from the brink of Jordan may sing: 

Now I tread the verge of Jordan, 

Bid my anxious fears subside ; 
Death of death, and helPs destruction, 

Land me safe on Canaan's side. 

And all people of every land and nation and tongue 
and kindred may join in one grand chorus: 

Songs of praises, songs of praises, 
We will ever give to Thee. 

Proceeding with our analysis, we next behold him 
as the great representative Teacher of mankind. He 
speaks in righteousness. Not a subject in all the 
wide range of human responsibility or human desti- 
ny but is discussed by him with a simplicity, a beau- 
ty, and a power which belong to no other teacher. 
Avoiding all technical terms, shunning all metaphys- 
ical discussions, ignoring all the schools of philoso- 
phy, caring nothing for the oracular utterances of the 
academy or the porch, he never touched a subject that 
he did not make lucid, he never presented a truth that 
was not luminous, and he never spoke but in right- 
eousness. His illustrations, taken from every-day 
life, astonish by their appositeness and their variety, 
and actually distance expectation and defy imitation. 
The utterance of one of his parables would have giv- 
en immortality to any other teacher. The prayer 
which he taught his disciples, though uttered by the 
pious for eighteen centuries, though lisped by infan- 
cy and trembling on the lips of age, though trans- 
ferred to canvas and transformed to verse, though 



The Visitor from Edom, 27 



chanted by the choir, and though almost spoken in 
the tremulous and deep tones of the organ, has never 
yet been exhausted of its marrow and its fatness. So 
it is with all his inimitable utterances. They aston- 
ish us by their variety, attract us by their simplicity, 
affect us by their tenderness, move us by their spir- 
ituality, and warm us by their love. Age cannot im- 
pair their freshness, and no repetition can lessen 
their power. They embrace every theme of death, 
life, and immortality which ought to engage the at- 
tention, enlist the feelings or control the conduct of 
rational and immortal beings. They inculcate every 
virtue and arrest all forms of vice in its very begin- 
ning — in the thoughts and feelings. He spake as 
never man spake, and always in righteousness. He 
never made a mistake in word or doctrine, in precept 
or in practice. He spoke in parables and in proverbs, 
in the boldest denunciations and in the sweetest prom- 
ises, to all classes and conditions, in the city and in the 
wilderness, to listening thousands and to a lone wom- 
an; and to this day, after all the caviling of infidelity, 
he stands the great, unrivaled, original Teacher, who 
never committed a blunder, was never entrapped by 
his enemies, was ever consistent with himself, and al- 
ways spoke in righteousness. To this day his teach- 
ings shine with ever-increasing brightness, and defy 
the heart to exhaust their love, and no intellect has 
ever probed their depth. And yet, wonderful para- 
dox, they are so simple that a child may embrace 
them, and so transparent that the failing eye of old 
age may look through them. So potent are these in- 
imitable teachings that in their presence ignorance 
becomes intelligence, corruption becomes pure, sor- 



28 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

row looks up and smiles, and guilt puts on the robe 
of innocence. 

3. But we pass on to a still fuller analysis of this 
magnificent description. He w^ho declares himself to 
be the great Teacher speaking in righteousness next 
proclaims himself as mighty to save. 

His power to save is seen: 

1. In that he satisfied the demands of stern and 
inflexible justice — demands which neither man nor 
angels could meet. 

Said Justice : " Man, I would know thy weight ; 

If weight thou hast, I spare ; if not, I slay." 

Man leaped the scale, it mounted at his word. 

Said Justice : " Less than nothing. Where's my sword ? " 

But Virtue was there, and her small weight did try. 

The scale unsunk, still kicked the beam on high. 

But Mercy, the fairest dove that ever flew, 

From Calvary brought a twig of crimson hue. 

The scale, it sunk on the other side, 

Man smiled, and Justice said, " I am satisfied." 

He alone could turn away the wrath of God, avert 
the storm of divine vengeance, meet the claims of a 
violated law, hush the thunders of Sinai, and he 
alone could solve the problem, ''How can God be 
just and justify the ungodly?" When the cloud of 
vengeance spread its murky folds over the world, he 
drew from its bosom the fiery bolt and received it in 
his own heart. He then irradiated its darkness with 
the light of hope and spanned it with the bow of 
promise. In the emphatic language of the Bible, " He 
was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for 
our iniquities." He tasted death for every man. He 
w^as our substitute. He took our place, assumed our 
poverty, and received our punishment. He bore our 



The Visitor from Edoin. 29 

sins and suffered the untold agonies of the garden 
and the cross, until justice sheathed its sword, and 
with features relaxed and voice of tender sympathy 
exclaimed, "I am satisfied." Then truth cried aloud, 
"Mighty to save!" and ten thousand echoing voices 
from earth and sky, from angels and men, " Mighty 
to save!" 

2. His power to save is seen in the next place in 
the transforming and conservative influence of his 
divine religion upon nations. It has converted En- 
gland from a nation of barbarians, poisoned with Dru- 
idism and reveling in human blood, to the most en- 
lightened and progressive nation on the globe. The 
light of civilization shed over England by him who is 
mighty to save has made the "fast-anchored isle " the 
wonder and the glory of the nineteenth century. Her 
laws and literature, her morals and civilization, her be- 
nevolence and humanity are all the results of her open 
Bibles and her Protestant Christianity. And "woe 
be the day " when proud and potent England, yield- 
ing to the false teachings of Mill and Huxley, shall 
depart from the light of Christianity. Christianity 
breathed upon the mountains of Switzerland, the 
snows of Eussia, the vine-clad hills of France, the 
olive-groves of Spain, and upon the laws and govern- 
ment of Prussia, as also upon the academies and uni- 
versities of Germany, and that breath, so pure and vi- 
tal, has been the sole salvation of Europe from vandal 
barbarism and widespread and hopeless degradation. 
It is the moral power of the gospel, its power to save, 
that has given to America all its glory, and the lack 
of it has produced all its shame. Had religion been 
kept pure, had the Church never formed any adulter- 



30 ' Arrows from Tivo Quivers. 

ons connections with the State, had the simplicity of 
the primitive Church not been substitnted by gor- 
geous and imposing ceremonies that almost destroyed 
its vital power, Eden in its pristine glory would not- 
have surpassed the present condition of the world. 
But notwithstanding all this, his power to save has 
kept some who have not defiled their garments, has 
saved the human race from entire and universal de- 
struction, has kept aglow the spirit of earnest piety 
in the hearts of his believing children, and has given 
an impulse to progress which will continue with ac- 
celerated speed until the banner of the cross shall 
float in triumph from the crumbling walls of the 
temple of idolatry, and the songs of salvation shall 
make the earth vocal with praise. 

3. He is mighty to save, as is seen in his power to 
bring all instrumentalities into his service. He can 
make all nature speak in one harmonious voice, and 
invite the world to the service of him to whom all na- 
ture owes its origin. The heavens declare his glory, 
the firmament showeth his handiwork. The sun roll- 
ing in gorgeous splendor, the moon revolving in 
queenly dignity, the planets like fiery cruisers rush- 
ing with inconceivable velocity, law, and order, and 
fulfilling their various rounds with an exactitude of 
time which does not vary a minute in a thousand 
years, the fixed stars lighting up the celestial vault 
like so many brilliant camp-fires at night, all the 
agents of almighty power, and the witnesses, silent- 
ly, yet eloquently, attest the divine perfections. He 
can bring all the beauties of heaven, all the grandeur 
and glory of earth to attest his power and exhibit his 
skill. The fire and hail, the snow and vapor fulfill 



The Visitor from Edom, 31 

his word. Storm and calm, light and darkness, life 
and death, men and angels, peace and war, ignorance 
and learning, goodness and wrath may all be made to 
praise him. He can and does employ all agencies 
and instrumentalities throughout his vast dominions 
to enlist man in his service and bring the world to 
the Saviour. 

4. His power to save is seen in the individual sal- 
vation of all that come to him. He casts out none 
that apply. He has power on earth to forgive sin. 
His salvation washes away all pollution, removes all 
guilt, and brings in upon the soul a new creation. 
The vilest sinner is made to rejoice in sins forgiven 
and a heart renewed. Old things pass away, and all 
things become new. The man whom Jesus saves 
sees with new eyes and hears with new ears. He 
rejoices with joy unspeakable and full of glory. His 
soul aspires. His faith claims the promises and clings 
to the cross. His affections gush in sweet sympathy 
with all that is pure and good, and with loving ener- 
gy embrace the Saviour. Duty is felt in all the 
force of moral obligation, and is discharged with a 
conscience void of offense toward God and man. 
The current of feeling flows in a new channel, and 
while the power of the will is increased the happy 
convert no longer exclaims: "O, wretched man that 
I am! who shall deliver me from this body of sin and 
death? " The fear of death is removed, and the terror 
of contemplating the last judgment gives place to se- 
rene hope or exultant joy. The grave loses its gloom be- 
cause the light of redemption illumines it, and he who 
is mighty to save has conquered the power of death 
and proclaimed himself the resurrection and the life. 



32 Arroivs from Two Quivers. 

5. His power to save is seen in that he saves from 
eternal death. He is the Saviour from all the pains 
and agonies of the second death. He saves from the 
fires which ever burn and from the storm that ever 
rages. He saves the soul from being lost. A lost soul! 
Who can conceive its fearful, hopeless, endless doom? 
Cast into outer darkness — a darkness w^liich can nev- 
er be relieved, never mitigated. It is the darkness of 
a starless night, upon whose sky no sun is ever to 
rise. It is the darkness which no light will ever dis- 
pel and no hope can ever enter. It is outer darkness 
— away out and out amid the scenes of horror and of 
dread, from which the soul instinctively shrinks. It 
is the wreck of all that is delightful in society, joyous 
in hope, sweet in friendship, holy in tender sympa- 
thies, glowing in imagination, or lofty in action. It 
is darkness visible; it is darkness palpable; it is 
darkness eternal. No ray of light can ever pene- 
trate, can ever reach, the outer verge of that horri- 
ble darkness which, like the successive waves of an 
angry sea, shall come over the lost spirit which has 
rejected the offer of mercy from him who is mighty 
to save. From such a fate he alone can save us, and 
from that doom his mighty and far-reaching mercy 
alone can rescue us. 

6. But he saves in heaven. His salvation exalts 
to the throne of God. It conquers sin, paralyzes 
death, dismantles the grave, and bears the soul re- 
deemed and disenthralled to the cloudless light of 
eternal day. There is no night there. No clouds 
gather in murky folds to shut out the true light 
which shines and shall shine forever in heaven. Be- 
fore that light the sun himself grows pale and then 



The Visitor from Edom, 33 

disappears forever. The unearthly, eternal glory of 
the Holy Trinity pours forth such a radiance over all 
celestial plains that all the sons and daughters of re- 
deeming love feel no need of the light of the sun, but 
bask forever amid scenes brighter than prophet or 
bard ever conceived. For it hath not entered into 
the heart of man to conceive of the sublime grandeur 
of his holy inheritance. But once more the prophet 
asks: " Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and 
thy garments like him that treadeth in the wine-fat? " 
He answers: "I have trod the wine-press alone." 

Alone? Yes; all alone he trod the wine-press of his 
Father's wrath. It is doubtful with me if there is a 
more expressive term, as applied to the Saviour's suf- 
ferings, than this word "alone." He had none to 
help him. Accursed by scribes and Pharisees, con- 
demned by Pilate, betrayed by Judas, denied by Pe- 
ter, forsaken by his disciples, he was alone on the 
cross— alone to avert the wrath of God and save a lost 
world. I have thought of loneliness as I have been 
in a great city and felt myself alone amidst thou- 
sands of human beings, all strange to me. I have 
seen the poor culprit alone in his cell, shut out from 
all human society by bars and bolts and frowning 
walls. I have seen the daughter, the spoiled and 
petted child of w^ealth and fashion, driven from the 
home of her father and mother, and forbidden ever 
again to enter the family circle or to utter the sacred 
name which she had dishonored. But all this, and 
more, is not to be compared to the loneliness of the 
suffering Son of God. Then I have seen the widow, 
whose husband had been slain in battle, alone in her 
weeds of mourning, without father or mother, and 
8 



34 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

feeling that she was alone in the world. But, my 
brethren, no loneliness is to be compared to that 
which Christ endured when he said: "My God! my 
God! why hast thou forsaken me?" Then he drank 
the bitter cup of spiritual death, and felt that even 
his Father had allowed him to pass under the rod of 
the divine law, with no hand to uphold him and no 
words to cheer him. 

Now, if this view of Christ does not lead you to 
him, I know not what can. Argument will be pow- 
erless, and appeals will be of no avail. Promises will 
not encourage, and anathemas will not alarm. Allow 
me, then, to beseech you to come and join company 
with the hosts of the redeemed who will crowd 
around the Sa^^iour and crown him Lord of all. 

E. 



III. 

SATAN'S SIEVE.* 



"And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath de- 
sired to have you, that he might sift you as wheat: but I have 
prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not : and when thou art con- 
verted, strengthen thy brethren." (Luke xxii. 31, 32.) 

PETER was a fisherman, for the reason that there 
were no railroads in his day. Had there been, I 
am sure he would have been a railroad man. He was 
the right material — an out-and-out nature, honest, 
earnest, open-handed, unselfish; and his mother-in- 
law lived in the home with him. He was strong, 
fearless, impetuous, hardy, rough-handed, not often 
scared, and took risks as they came, and wasn't care- 
ful of consequences. Withal, there is something so 
noble and generous in his nature that we all love him. 
He had a penchant for speech-making. He made 
more speeches than all the eleven. He always spoke 
from his heart, and spoke as he felt. The Master had 
to rebuke him occasionally, yet he loved him so that 
he made his resting-place in Peter's home. 

The railroad life is a fast life. A man dashes into 
danger, and does his thinking about it afterward. 
Peter's very nature was like this. He was a minute 
man. Provoked, his sword was out and cutting and 
slashing into the very heart of danger without tliink- 



"^ Preached to the Railroad Department of the Young Men's 
Christian Association, at Atlanta, Ga., June 22, 1889. 

(35) 



36 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

ing. He had all the elements of the railroad man — 
soul, body, and spirit. 

1. This text sets the gate ajar. Here we get a 
glimpse of that unknown realm wherein is perpetual 
conflict — the spirit domain, which is a theater of an- 
tagonisms. We can see only the natural, but Christ 
surveys both realms, natural and supernatural. He 
sees Satan's movements and knows his aims. While 
the powers of darkness are so malignant, and their 
plans too subtle for our cognition, it is a grand 
thought that our leader surveys the field and notes 
each movement of the subtle forces. His omnis- 
cience is as a divine field-glass that sweeps the entire 
infernal realm and detects every movement for the 
destruction of his followers. 

His ivords ivere a surprise, '' Simon, Simon, Satan 
hath desired to have you." What astonishment! 
"What had Satan to do with him? He had not seen 
Satan, but Satan had plotted his ruin. While Peter 
had not thought of danger, Christ had seen his peril; 
and that peril was so great that he had gone into a 
conflict of prayer for him. 

Life has literal dangers on every hand. Death, in 
a thousand forms, lurks in the points and turns of 
every life. But those dangers multiply about some 
lives. I talk now with a class of men wh(5 carry their 
lives in their hands. You part from dear ones at the 
doorway in the morning without assurance of greet- 
ing them when the run is made. Certain you are to 
pass dangers before you return. They may next see 
you as you are lifted lifeless from the wreck. But 
exposure to danger begets indifference to it, and this 
indifference does but increase the danger. Many the 



Satan's Sieve. 37 



man who has lost his life by his very familiarity with 
danger. I saw a daring man adjust a rod on a church- 
spire. It was a dizzy height. The streets were lined 
with spectators as he lingered for an hour at that spire- 
tip, with certain death beneath should he fall. It was 
an hour of excitement with that little town. There 
is where the railroad man spends life — up over the 
great abyss of eternity, with only a point between 
him and death. His passing from coach to coach is 
over thundering death; climbing to the car-top, he is 
clambering over destruction; running the upper deck 
of the long freight train, he leaps the death-stream 
'twixt each car. Add to this broken rails, unsound 
trestles, mistaken schedules, misread orders, and the 
railroad life is a sport with death. Besides, half the 
perils are never known. How many are the acci- 
dents barely escaped — hair-breadth passes of which 
you know not! You know the danger by the actual 
occurrence of the tragedy; how many come within a 
particle and yet are passed! Could you look back 
and see the unseen dangers, the soul would sicken at 
the sight. 

But flesh and blood perils are not the most numer- 
ous. There are more soul-wrecks than train-wrecks, 
and they are far more dreadful. A railroad wreck is 
a thing of a day: a few mangled forms, -a wife wid- 
owed, a family orphaned, an engine crushed, an en- 
gineer put on a crutch or on a wooden leg for life^ 
transportation stopped for six hours, a sensation for 
the morning paper, and there it ends. The debris is 
soon removed, damage repaired, dead buried, tears 
dried, and old Time wets his finger at his lips and 
silently rubs out the scene. But a soul-wreck can 



38 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

never be remedied: There is no alleviation. God 
liimself cannot repair the ruin or remove the debris. 
The blood cannot be washed out. Like the stain on 
the hand of Lady Macbeth, all the tides of eternity 
cannot wash out the stain of a self-murdered soul. 

Our unseen dangers are most numerous. As sleeping 
passengers, we pass most dangers when we know it 
not. Peter had been in peril. He and the others 
had been in a big quarrel as to "who should be 
greatest." Christ perhaps was in prayer for them 
while they were in the quarrel about honors which 
were never to be. Most of our disharmonies arise 
from what we fancy or expect, but which never trans- 
pires. When we are fullest of worldly ways and am- 
bitions, then are we in most danger from unseen pow- 
ers of darkness. Had that quarrel been recorded, it 
would have made racy reading. Peter, I am sure, 
put his claim to promotion with emphasis, and. had it 
been necessary would have made that emphasis more 
emphatic with his fist. And yet he learns afterward 
that at the moment he was urging his claim to of&ce 
a hand — invisible, black, malignant — was fixing its 
clutch in his throat, and but for the Master's care 
and prayers would have wrought his ruin. How 
often, when ambition is highest and the blood hot- 
test, the hand of the destroyer is nighest! Success 
has its unseen perils. Are you rising in power as 
never before? making money as never before? hav- 
ing success as never before? Kemember, it was just 
when Peter thought he was about to become chief 
cabinet oSicer that the devil was planning his de- 
struction. 

2. The confiict. Christ and Satan are in conflict 



Satan's Sieve, 39 



over the soul of Peter. There are unseen battles 
fought over us when we know it not; and were 
Christ not engaged for us, we could not stand. He 
does not break the power of the enemy and thus de- 
liver us. That would be saving us as babes are saved. 
He intends that we shall be saved as men — men who 
have the royal right of choice, men who stand for the 
right, heroes and conquerors with and for Christ. 

" Satan hath desired to have you, that he might sift 
you as wheat." It had not occurred to Peter that the 
devil had special yearning after hinv We would 
ti:emble, many times, if we knew the Satanic desires 
for our ruin. Satan wanted his way with Peter that 
he might sift him — might shake him thoroughly, as 
he did Job, and see if he could shake him through 
the sieve with the cockle and the dirt. It was fear- 
ful, and would have been hopeless but for the coun- 
teracting power of the Saviour's prayer. There is a 
mighty countervailing influence in prayer. The god- 
less recognize this. The bronzed old pilot, when his 
vessel was caught in the fog near the pass between 
the rocks, and the fog suddenly lifted just enough 
and long enough for him to guide his boat through 
the pass, said solemnly: "Somebody on this boat has 
been praying." It is a grand thing to have a mother, 
a wife, even a little child pray for you; But what is 
it to have him pray for you whose wounds and blood 
are eloquent with that power that veiled the sun and 
rent the rocks? 

Railroad men have special sifting. Some say: "The 
railroads belong to the devil ; and a man cannot be a 
railroad man and a Christian." They say: "They 
have no Sunday, no church, no association helpful to 



40 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

godliness." The devil very naturally sets his claim 
to the railroads. He knows the power they wield. 
He knows they are mighty instrumentalities for the 
advance of civilization. Hence he will take charge if 
he be allowed. If he told the Master that all the 
kingdoms of the earth were his, we need not wonder if 
he should claim the railroads. He will run them in his 
interests if possible. Where you pierce new territo- 
ry with your lines, he will be on hand with his enter- 
prises; where you build a station, he will plant a sa- 
loon and build a brothel; ^here you put a Bible in a 
coach-rack, he will put in a score of infidel books and 
yellow-backed filth; where you win one young man 
to Christ, he will try to persuade half a dozen to give 
up the religion of their childhood and enter upon fast 
and dissolute life. But press the battle on this line, 
as workers in the Young Men's Christian Association, 
and remember you have a solid ground of hope in 
these words: "I have prayed for thee." The divine 
solicitude and the prayer of Christ underlie your or- 
ganization and the effort of every one trying to save 
men. 

3. The hiirclen of the prayer, " That thy faith fail 
not." There is a heroism in faith that laughs at im- 
possibilities. It lets in a measure of the supernatu- 
ral upon us in the trying junctures of life; it makes 
men do what they cannot explain in their cooler mo- 
ments. Yonder Hebrew has slain his fellow, and is 
flying to the city of refuge. The avenger upon his 
track is gaining and pressing him hard. Every 
nerve and muscle are strained, and his strength is 
failing. The avenger is nearer, and escape seems im- 
possible; yet his confidence holds, and he believes he 



Satan's Sieve. 41 



will reach the refuge. That confidence gives him su- 
perhnman power; the last leaps are made, the city 
gained, he is through the gate — saved! "His faith 
failed not." While faith holds we make headway 
despite opposing forces. This was the prayer for 
Peter, that "his faith fail not." When faith fails ef- 
forts cease; and the meanest thing that men or dev- 
ils can do is to destroy the faith of a struggling soul. 
A man may make shipwreck of all, and be little dam- 
aged while his faith holds. It is this that allies him 
to God. When he has lost all, then faith gives him 
hold upon all that God has. Job lost all, but the 
destruction around him made his faith the grander. 
He went through the devil's sieve, and, as it is now, 
there were hands enough (and, worst of all, his wife 
among them) to help the devil shake the sieve while 
Job was in it. But he came out "sifted but safe." 
Peter's sifting did him good. Fearful it was, but it 
brought him to know himself and his Master better. 
It was a pity that he did lie and swear, but Christ 
forgave him. Our siftings, terrible as they are, make 
the bone and muscle of Christian character and man- 
hood. 

The irdlroads are not his. He has no more right to 
them than he has to the schools or to the churches. 
But he claims all. He will take charge of the rail- 
roads, put the Bible out of the schools, run the State 
legislatures, the municipal councils, and all else, if he 
be only allowed. Eailroads are God's property. Not 
a foot of road-bed, not an iron rail, thundering engine, 
clattering wheel, ton of coal, or pound of steam in all 
the railroads on earth that God did not furnish. The 
devil never gave so much as a cross-tie, spike, or an 



42 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

inch of steam to a railroad, and yet he wonld Tisnrp 
and run the whole system in his interests. Then let 
the motto be: ''The Railroads for Christ^ Press the 
battle until every official and employee shall come to 
God; until every man in the system shall have "Ho- 
liness unto the Lord" written upon his brow, and, 
like the engine's flashing head-light, be a flying and 
shining light through this world's darkness. 

Their possibilities. They have revolutionized the 
practical economy of our land; they have relegated 
the stage and road-wagoii to the lumber-loft of the 
past, and brought about a horse and mule millenni- 
um; they have grown to monopolies of such magni- 
tude that the financial and political elements feel 
their force and respect their power. It now remains 
for them to touch and change the moral issues of the 
times. They can do more to settle the '* Sabbath ques- 
tion " than any other power short of the ballot. Let 
the railroads be consecrated to God, and their moral 
power will surpass their physical and financial forces. 
If every office were closed on the Sabbath day, every 
engine silent, every car motionless, every brake idle, 
and the employees gathered at the places of worship, 
who could portray the effect? Soon every schedule 
in the land would be adjusted, and every traveler 
would adjust himself to the schedules. Sabbath si- 
lence would be no longer broken by the screams and 
groans of toiling locomotives; but every office, en- 
gine, and car would stand as a witness for God and 
his Sabbath. The very silence would impress the 
nation^a testimony before which blatant infidelity 
would stand abashed and speechless. 

4. Peter, reclaimed, was mighty for God, Nobly 



Satcm's Sieve. 43 



did he strengtlien his brethren. A grander history 
is not made than that of this big-hearted, brawny son 
of nature, after his reclamation. This grand apostol- 
ic railroad man is a typical man in a double sense — 
type of railroad character and type of the railroad 
power for good. What reclaimed Peter w^as to the 
apostolate, the reclaimed railroad will be to the 
Church of God. God says to the railroad power of 
this land, " When thou art converted, strengthen thy 
brethren." Give us the railroads for Christ. Let 
the thought prevail that the country's commerce is 
engineered by the " sons of God; " that every passen- 
ger is in the charge of a conductor and public serv- 
ants who fear God; that every ticket has the gospel 
stamp upon it; that every grimy hand that grasps a 
throttle is a consecrated hand; that every eye look- 
ing through a midnight head-light has first looked 
up to God; every brakeman at his post, a hero of 
Christ. 

Thus, with nearly 200,000 miles of road radiating 
from the great centers of wealth, thought, and influ- 
ence, and penetrating town and territory at every 
point of the compass, each train a gospel light; and 
flying by thousands, as sensations over the human 
nerve lines, their thunder a gospel bass, whose an- 
Wering echoes are the prelude to millennial tri- 
umph. "Peter strengthening his brethren;" the 
railroads helping the Church; lifting up the right; 
exalting the cross; hastening the conquest of the 
world. 

Finally. Tours is a vast field; but the eye of the 
General Superintendent is upon you. "I have prayed 
for thee, that thy faith fail not." With Christ lead- 



44 Arrows fi'om Two Quivers, 

ing, his prayers sustaining, and his promise to lure 
you on, your faith will not fail. Press the battle un- 
til Satan shall fly from the railroads as he did from 
the Lord after defeat; until every line shall be a gos- 
pel line; until the railroad power shall become "a 
power of God" for saving men; until the moral tend- 
ency and ultimate terminus of every line shall be the 
celestial city, where the gospel immigrants coming 
from every nation shall constitute the commonwealth 
of the redeemed. M. 



IV. 

GLORYING IN THE CROSS. 



" God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord 
Jesus Christ." (Galatians vi. 14.) 

MAN is constitutionally inclined to glory in some- 
thing. He boasts of liis high birth, his great 
wealth, his superior attainments, or his extensive in- 
fluence. To meet this constitutional principle God has 
presented to man an object worthy not only of his trust, 
but of his boast. He says to man: " Let not the wise 
man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man 
glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his 
riches: but let him that glorieth glory in this, that 
he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the 
Lord which exercise loving-kindness, judgment, and 
righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I de- 
light, saith the Lord." I hold that there is no dis- 
crepancy between Jeremiah and Paul. They express 
the same thoughts in different language. St. Paul 
might have boasted of a noble ancestry, of his Eo- 
man citizenship, of his finished education, and of his 
Church association; but he boasted of none of these 
things. He counted them all as loss for the excel- 
lency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord. 
He said: "God forbid that I should glory, save in 
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

1. The cross revealed more fully than men or an- 
gels had ever seen the character of God, and there- 

(45) 



46 Arrows from Two Qwivers. 

fore lie gloried in it. Not in all the dispensations of 
providence and of grace, for four thousand years, did 
the character of God shine forth as it did from the 
cross. When at the birth of creation the morning 
stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted 
for joy, the character of God was but partially dis- 
played. The morning of creation, blazing with light 
and shining in cloudless splendor, did not shed such 
luster upon the character of God as did the cross on 
which Jesus died. Creation exhibited his omnipo- 
tent power and his infinite wisdom; but the cross, all 
stained with hallowed blood, showed forth his bound- 
less compassion and his eternal love. But at the same 
time justice, stern and inflexible, was made manifest, 
holding mercy by the hand and hushing the thunders 
of the law, and quenching its penal fires in the blood 
of the atonement. In no other work of God do all his 
attributes shine out and blend in such complete har- 
mony as on the cross. In reference to all else we may 
say: **Lo, these are parts of his ways." On the cross 
his whole character is displayed in perfect fullness, 
like a full-orbed sun, its round of rays complete. 

Here the whole Deity is known, 

Nor dares a creature guess 
Which of the glories brighter shone, 

The justice or the grace. 

Not all the stars that blaze on the curtain of night, 
not all the systems that move in harmony at the 
divine command, can shed such light upon the di- 
vine plan as does the little hill of Calvary, pressed 
by the cross and smoking with the blood of Jesus. 
We may well imagine, then, with what enthusiasm 
the great Apostle to the Gentiles exclaimed: "God 



Glorying in the Cross. 4tl 

forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our 
Lord Jesus Christ." Nature discovered to him all 
the natural attributes of the Deity. He saw him 
shining in the sun and warming in his beams; he be- 
held him glowing in the stars and sparkling in their 
rays; he heard his voice in the thunder and saw the 
flash of his eye in the lightning; he looked upon him 
as with his mighty hands he upheaved the mountains 
and spread out the valleys, and he said in all this and 
in more than ten thousand other things, great and 
small: "I see the labor of his hands and the impress 
of his feet; I behold the wisdom that devises, the 
ubiquity that pervades, and the power that executes; 
but here on the cross, amid all its darkness, I see the 
great heart of God as it opens in love to embrace the 
world." 

2. In the second place, the apostle gloried in the 
cross of Christ because it was the symbol of moral 
influence. It had power, but it was moral. Its pow- 
^r was and is to attract. It is the power which at last 
will subdue the world. Not by conquering armies, 
not by warlike navies, not by might — the might of 
great nations — but by the attractions of the cross will 
he draw all men to him. The cross is the great mor- 
al magnet which is to draw all men to him. It is the 
centripetal force which shall wheel the moral uni- 
verse into its orbit and bring back the lost planet to 
its place. Its power comes over the chaos which sin 
hath wrought, like the voice of God falling upon the 
world when it was without form and void, and dark- 
ness was upon the face of the deep. Power always 
impresses the human mind. The power that carries 
the locomotive v/ith its train of cars, freighted with 



48 Arrows from Two Qwivers. 

the products of every clime, startles all that are ca- 
pable of thought or feeling. So are we moved by the 
power that launches the ship on the sea, or that drives 
it with almost incredible . speed across the pathless 
ocean. Still more are we moved by that stupendous 
power that filled the archipelago of the skies with isl- 
ands of light and beauty, and sent forth the planets 
like beautiful argosies in aerial voyages around the 
sun. But much as Vv^e may admire these displays of 
the great forces of steam or wind or gravitation; 
much as we admire that power which created the 
earth and hung out the planets and gave to all their 
laws and motions — much more do we admire the pow- 
er that breathes upon the world the beauty of a new 
creation, and which will make all its mountains vocal 
with praise, all its valleys nestling with joy, and all its 
inhabitants gushing with love. Until the power of 
the cross was felt in heaven the very attributes of 
Deity seemed to be at war with each other. Justice 
contended with mercy, and truth shut out compassion, 
while omnipotence seemed hurrying to strike the ter- 
rible blow which justice demanded and mercy sought 
to avert. The cross reconciled the jarrings of heaven 
and left mercy weeping in the arms of justice, truth 
kissing compassion, and omnipotence calmed by the 
tenderness of love. Its words are as sweet as the 
songs of angels. God can be just and yet pardon 
the guilty. Planted upon the head of Satan, the 
cross fulfills the first promise of redemption, and 
gathers around it in rich and immortal array all the 
prophets and martyrs, who shout in triumph the work 
complete, the sacrifice sufficient, and man redeemed. 
Let us join the shout, and with all the radiant throng 



Glorying in the Cross, 49 

cry: "God forbid that we should glory, save in the 
cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

3. The cross is the symbol of purity. It sustains 
the government of God. It leaves the divine throne 
untarnished; it fulfills the most rigorous demands of 
the law; it meets the claims of retributive justice; it 
pays what man owed and what justice demanded, and 
thus carries to its completion the covenant with Ad- 
am. All governmental requirements are acknowl- 
edged and satisfied at the foot of the cross. " God is 
pure," is proclaimed by every drop of blood which 
flowed from the veins of the Divine Victim, and are 
re-echoed by his dying words, " It is finished." But 
while the cross asserts the purity of God it offers 
purity to man. It is to cleanse from all sin. It is 
from the foot of the cross that the fountain gushes 
by which pollution is to be cleansed and sin forever 
washed away. As when Moses smote the rock of 
Horeb water gushed out in a stream sufficient to sat- 
isfy every want of the famishing Israelites, so when 
Christ was nailed to the cross, when the Eock of Ages 
was smitten by the rod of the law, there gushed out a 
stream deep enough and wide enough and pure enough 
to w^ash away the sins of the world and to present it 
once more to the sight of angels and of God shining 
with the divine image, pure as the unsoiled snow, and 
bright and happy as pure. Shall we not glory in pu- 
rity ? Shall we, can we glory in pride and folly, when 
not a stream but an ocean of purity bathes the foot 
of the cross and extends its peaceful waves to the 
ends of the world? 

4. The cross is the symbol of redemption, and 
therefore Paul gloried in it. It enfranchises an en- 



50 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

tire race; it brings life and immortality to light; it 
destroys the power of sin and takes away the bitter- 
ness of death; it solves the mystery of man's moral 
nature in ruins, and it rebuilds it upon a basis more 
solid, and with all its materials renewed, polished, 
and refined. Upon a world which sin had darkened 
and the law had cursed it pours a radiance brighter 
than the sun and bestows all the blessings of the gos- 
pel of peace. It gives light for darkness, innocence 
for guilt, purity for pollution, life for death, and 
heaven for hell. It changes the gloom of despair to 
the effulgence of hope, and converts the wails of grief 
to the melodies of rapture. It proclaims Jesus Christ 
the resurrection and the life, and declares that '^ who- 
soever believeth on him shall not perish, but have ev- 
erlasting life; " and that even "though he were dead, 
yet shall he live." It employs all the wealth of nature, 
all the truths of science, and all the inventions of 
genius, and brings into requisition all of the institu- 
tions of philanthropy to remove from man the bur- 
dens which sin has imposed. It reveals the arm of 
God outstretched to save and the heart of God throb- 
bing with compassion as boundless as it is tender. It 
proclaims the reign of sin but temporary, and the 
scepter of death broken. It announces the Child 
born and the Son given, and exhibits him, with an 
energy greater than Samson, bearing away the gates 
of death and pulling down the temple of sin. It 
shows him that cometh from Edom,,with dyed gar- 
ments from Bozrah, marching to the conquest of the 
world. It points us to the Wonderful, Counsellor, 
mighty to save, stronger than the fabled Atlas, bearing 
upon his shoulders the government of the universe, 



Glorying in the Cross, 51 

and offers to our contemplation an epic whose reality 
surpasses far the most exaggerated creation of the im- 
agination and whose dramatic interest appals the mind 
and beggars human language. It offers to our faith 
the God-man, whose birth was a miracle, whose life 
was a perfect illustration of the highest wisdom and 
noblest philanthropy, and whose death was the most 
stupendous event that prophecy ever anticipated or 
history ever recorded. It opens to our hope the door 
of heaven and bids us enter in, in the assurance of an 
inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth 
not away. It provides for our love an object of fault- 
less beauty and spotless purity, and of such wide and 
tender sympathy as ought to awaken emotions in the 
coldest nature, and make a heart of adamant feel. It 
makes labor smile in the midst of its toils, and causes 
poverty to rejoice in its rags. It pours a divine ra- 
diance into the dreary dungeon where crime repents in 
solitude, and breathes the light of hope over the sad 
features of the dying malefactor. It feeds the hun- 
gry and clothes the naked; it visits the sick and min- 
isters to the prisoners; it reforms the prodigal and 
pours its consolation into the bosom of the dying. 
It collects all the drops of mercy, and pours them out 
in such prolific showers as ought to make the wilder- 
ness and the solitary place glad, and the desert re- 
joice and blossom as the rose. Coming down like 
rain upon the mown grass, these showers of mercy 
will after awhile clothe the earth with verdure, and 
impart to it a beauty surpassing that of Eden in all 
its pristine glory. Such is redemption, and the cross 
is its symbol. *'God forbid that I should glory, save 
in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." 



52 Arrows from Two Qwlvers, 

5. We should glory in the cross because it is the 
consecrated symbol of our holy religion; it is the sa- 
cred badge of Christianity. The cross embraces all 
that we mean by the religion of Christ. It is the sign 
of that religion and of no other. When the apostle 
gloried in the cross of Christ he gloried in the relig- 
ion of the humble Nazarene. It was not in a piece 
of wood or ivory or pearl that he gloried, but he went 
beyond the material to the spiritual, beyond the sign 
to the thing signified. There is no virtue in a cross 
which may hang about your neck or shine upon your 
bosom, but there is virtue in the religion which warms 
the heart, shines upon the face, and illustrates the 
whole life. The religion of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
whether we consider it in its origin or its end, in its 
principles or its practice, in its sublime utterances, or 
in its exalting and saving power, is worthy the heart 
of individuals and of nations. It is the life of our 
civilization and the hope of our progress. It is the 
basis of all good government and the only assurance 
of its permanence. It satisfies the desires of the in- 
dividual, and meets all the wants of society. It con- 
ducts business upon legitimate principles, and ac- 
quires wealth by honest industry, prudent sagacity, 
and wise frugality. It fosters learning, diffuses edu- 
cation, and builds up institutions for the advancement 
of science. It requires justice and encourages benev- 
olence. It gives honor and dignity to man, and incor- 
ruptible purity to woman. It blesses marriage and 
makes home attractive. It unites parents and chil- 
dren by ties so strong that no violence can ever break 
them, and no length of time can wear or weaken them. 
It adds a charm to the domestic circle which neither 



Glorying in the Cross. 53 

wealth, position, nor intelligence can impart. It 
brightens the face of youth and smooths the brow 
of age. When unable to remove or avert the clouds 
that so often darken earth, it always spans them with 
the bow of promise, which assures of cloudless sun- 
shine beyond. It lessens the horrors of w^ar, and mul- 
tiplies the hopes and joys of peace. It diminishes all 
the evils of life, takes away the sting of death, and 
robs the grave of its gloom. It is as important to 
man universal as the compass to the mariner, as the 
sun to the traveler, as skill to the physician, as food 
to the hungry, or as water to the thirsty. It is the 
only assurance of a life of rectitude, and the only cer- 
tainty of a death of triumph. Its light is the light of 
an unsetting sun, and its joy flow^s from a perennial 
and inexhaustible fountain. Its perpetuity can nev- 
er be imperiled by the mutations of time, and its lus- 
ter can never be dimmed by the long and dark night 
of sin. It is the pearl of great price — a gem of purest 
ray serene, whose worth no arithmetic can calculate 
and no language express. Glory in it; make it your 
boast; count all things but loss for its excellency. 
It will give you admission to the skies. It will make 
you welcome to the society of the blest. It will con- 
stitute your rejoicing along all the ages to come. 
Make the cross the subject of your thoughts, the 
object of your devotion, the theme of your conver- 
sation, the very foundation of character, of hope, 
and of happiness. Build upon this foimdation, 
and no fury of the storm can ever move you. I 
urge you to stand by the cross. Glory in it, and in 
nothing else but the cross. Be bold to take it up and 
firm to sustain it. Let not wealth allure nor pleas- 



54: Arrows from Two Quivers. 

Tires entice nor honors tempt nor fears dismay, but 
stand to your colors and glory in the cross. It may 
seem barren now, but it will bud and blossom in your 
hands, and its amaranthine flowers will sweeten the 
atmosphere of heaven and regale your senses forever. 
Let no opposition discourage you and no enemies 
alarm you. Be brave. Be true. 

Some of you have just bowed to the cross, and will 
to-day take upon you the vows of the Church. Ee- 
member that no Christian soldier was ever defeated 
while standing by the cross. Life is a battle, and in 
this sign alone you can conquer. It will crucify you 
to the world, and will crucify the world to you. Aided 
by its purity and sustained by its power, you can and 
you will keep the vows which you do now take, to re- 
nounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and 
glory of the. world, with all covetous desires of the 
same, and the carnal desires of the flesh, so that you 
will not follow or be led by them. With these vows 
upon you and heaven just before you, continue to glo- 
ry in the cross until you receive the crown. R. 



V. 

SIGNS OF RAIN 



"Behold, there ariseth a Httle cloud out of the sea, like a 
man's hand." (1 Kings xviii. 44.) 

SAMARIA was in famine: protracted, fearful, deso- 
lating. Men and beasts were dying on every hand, 
and the unburied dead lay decomposing everywhere. 
The king, in distress, orders his servants to hunt out 
the fountains and water-brooks of the land — dried up, 
but per adventure there might be found remaining 
moisture to give grass enough to keep some of the 
stock alive. 

1. Rain was the one necessity. This one transcended 
all other needs with that people. A thousand other 
things needful to them, as to us; but the one all-com- 
prehending necessity was rain. Comfort, happiness, 
life itself — all involved in the probabilities of rain. 
They have seen the animal and vegetable kingdoms 
perish; and now they feel their own strength failing, 
while their children are growing w^an and feeble from 
want of food. No word can paint necessity so deep 
and strong and fearful as that word ''famine^ It 
combines all horrors in forms most horrible. May 
it never come to our borders! May the God of a gra- 
cious providence never permit gaunt hunger to stalky 
specter-like, in our midst, claiming our loved ones as 
his victims and our land as his heritage! 

2. The desire for rain was strong and general. The 

(55) 



56 Arrows from Tivo Quivers, 

anxious king, the failing inhabitants, hopeless par- 
ents, starving children, famishing nature — all looked 
longingly heavenward for rain. As the famine con- 
sumed the land, so the one desire consumed every 
heart, and the soul of Samaria went up in anguished 
accents of pleading for rain. It was the one blessing 
that included all others needful. With the coming 
of rain w^ould be the return of life and hope and song. 
The rills would ripple and laugh again, vegetation re- 
vive, grasses spring, flowers bloom, fruits ripen, har- 
vests wave, and gladness, come again to the dying 
land. 

Carry the figure up into the higher sphere, and the 
Holy Spirit corresponds to the rain in famine. Sin 
has been the blight of humanity through the ages. It 
rests upon all lands. Men are found everywhere fam- 
ishing in their higher being; " fat and flourishing " in 
their temporal and lower being, but " dying at the 
top;" blighted, withered, lifeless in their higher and 
immortal nature. 

It would be sad to see one starving in our city. 
The whole city would be moved. Let a family be in 
sore need, and the morning paper will carry the news 
to ten thousand homes, and before night-fall their 
wants are kindly and bountifully met. Still there 
are cases of spiritual starvation in your city — men 
who have suffered under the blight of sin until their 
very souls have shriveled within them; men who have 
well-nigh succumbed to the benumbing influence of 
sin, and will erelong lie down in death, and that death 
the doorway of despair. 

The Church likev/ise is losing, in some sense, her 
" sensibility of sin." There is a familiarity upon her 



Signs of Bain, 57 



part with tlie world that augurs ill. The higher spir- 
itual states are sensitive to the world's approaches, 
and the distance between the world and the Church 
is governed by the measure of divine influence that is 
upon the Church. As the warm breath from the 
south will lift the mercury to the higher degrees, so 
the breathing of the Holy Ghost upon the Church 
raises it to the higher religious spheres. 

3. The7i the chief need is the Holy Ghost, Samaria- 
like, we need a thousand things^ but the prime and 
all-inclusive necessity is "rain;" "refreshing from 
on high," that power of the Holy Ghost that revives 
and imparts new life. As a growing city (Atlanta, 
Ga.) we need the manufacturers' associations, the 
school of technology, the land improvement compa- 
nies, Belgian streets, dummy lines, and a thousand 
other things. But in the higher sphere, and above all 
and supremely, we need the power of God upon the 
people. No city is safe very long when running its 
material success beyond its moral and spiritual. 
Like the warning voice from the tomb of Achilles, 
Nineveh, Babylon, and other historic cities call to us 
from their ruins, warning of prosperity's dangers. 
Give us all the improvements and added agencies that 
will make our city strong and great; but let us not go 
forward without the cloud of the divine presence in 
front. 

Eevival, like the rain, involves all. Give us the 
rain, and the grasses, flowers, fruits, and foliage will 
come of themselves. If the rain but come, there will 
be the hum of bees amid the flowers, the warbling of 
birds am^ong the branches, the plowman's whistle in 
the fields, and the laugh* of merry childhood in the 



58 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

orchard and the meadow. All goes well if we do but 
have the rain. Give us "refreshing from on high," 
and the joys come to the Church of themselves. 
There is a sense of satisfaction everywhere: preach- 
er satisfied, people satisfied, officers, members, every- 
body satisfied. Joys spring as morning-glories after 
the rain. The people sing in church, talk in the ex- 
perience meeting, and sometimes shout God's praise 
in the "great congregation." Every thing full, like 
the gulches after the rain; church full, prayer-meet- 
ing full, Sunday-school full — a time of general full- 
ness. When heaven pours itself out upon the earth 
things get full and run over, whether they be things 
material or things spiritual. 

4. Revival always draivs, A famine is a poor thing 
to draw. I have never read of a country in famine 
that was crowded with immigrants. In place of flock- 
ing to such a land the people will flock out of it as 
fast as possible. There was a famine in Canaan, and 
the Patriarch Jacob, w^ith as much state pride as an 
autocrat of the " Old Dominion," took his family and 
went down to live among a heathen people, because 
they had provisions there. And it is so now. Let 
there be famine in the Church, and the very patri- 
archs are ready to take their families and go out and 
make terms with the Egyptians. In proportion as 
the revival rains cease in the Church, you will see its 
mem^bers moving toward Egypt. But give us rain 
from heaven, and every man's back is turned against 
Egypt; everybody takes a new start for the highlands 
of Canaan. Then your Church draws — draws men 
out of their indifference and out of their sordid world- 
liness, out of bestiality, and out of the sinks of iniqui- 



Signs of liain, 59 



ty. Even the old "stand-by's" of the devil, soaked 
and absolutely pickled in sin, and who have not en- 
tered a church for twenty years, all alike are drawn 
to the Church. And why? Because there is rain 
from heaven, food there from heaven, God himself 
there; and God in the Church will outdraw all the 
inventions of the age. Fine music from the loft and 
fine rhetoric from the desk are alike pleasant; but 
that element which comes to the house of God for 
such entertainment alone will be the first to leave you 
when the entertainment shall cloy but a little. They 
are not of those who hunger for the true bread. 

5. How it adjusts things. Let an old wind-mill get 
dry in its joints and the oiling be neglected, and ev- 
ery breeze will get a groan out of it. Its midnight 
creaking and complaining will keep the whole neigh- 
borhood awake. How often have you been haunted 
and harrowed in the night hours by the miseries of 
your neighbor's wind-mill, and he in turn by yours! 
Let a man's soul get a little dry, and its joints begin 
to suffer for the heavenly anointing, and every breeze 
will produce a groan. Like the dry wind-mill, the 
community will soon hear from him, and that in the 
most doleful accents; and if this dryness become prev- 
alent, then there is pandemonium of complaining that 
is apt to drive out even peace from Zion. But let the 
revival come — the divine anointing — and there is a 
"great calm;" not a groan, not a complaint, not a 
sensitive member, not a sore spot in all the Church, 
not so much as a midnight moan from a single wind- 
mill. Let the rain descend upon Zion, and all ques- 
tions of Church economy settle themselves, differences 
subside, and "brethren dwell together in unity." 



60 Arroivs from Two Quivers, 

6. There must he faith to bring revival, Elijah was in 
communion with God. This was his normal state; 
and though there has been no rain for so long and 
no sign of rain now, yet he has reached rain by his 
faith. Faith is that " sixth sense " by which we see 
the "unseen." Elijah's faith heard the coming rain; 
and he said to the king: "Get up and eat and drink, 
for there is a sound of abundance of rain." His faith 
reached the rain long before the rain reached Sama- 
ria. It w^as detected when as yet there was no visi- 
ble sign of its coming. There must be faith some- 
where to reach a revival before it will reach the 
Church. Preacher, officer, member — some one. must 
be near enough to God and have faith enough to 
reach it independently of indications. There is al- 
ways some one to hear the sound of the rain before 
the cloud is in .view. We have heard this mysterious, 
unmistakable sound before the coming flood of grace. 
But it was when we w^ere near to God, strong in faith, 
and "listening to hear what God the Lord would 
speak." 

And what is it to listen? To hear the telephonic 
message you close the doors and shut out all other 
sounds, command the children to silence, and lend 
your w^hole attention to catch the far-off utterance. 
This is what it is to listen to the voice of God. It is 
to shut out earth and self and sin, and bid all else " be 
still;" and in the "holy hush" we catch the voice of 
God. 

7. We detect rain in the atmosphere. There are at- 
mospheric phases that tell us of its coming. There 
is a softening and stilling of the air — a cessation of 
movement, w^hile distant sounds become strangely dis- 



Signs of Bain. 6! 



tinct. Then we say, " There will be rain." The sky 
'* red and lowering," the watery haze that causes the 
sun to seem as if wading deeply; the tree-frogs croak 
at "stilly night;" the rain-crow's midday note— these 
are signs that meet the eye and ear, and tell us of the 
coming rain. So there are premonitions of refresh- 
ing from God: a solemn and unusual interest on the 
part of the unsaved; men begin to think, to inquire, 
and to wish to talk on spiritual themes; they become 
approachable and anxious on this subject; there is a 
softening of the spiritual atmosphere. There are also 
certain characters who get very pliable at such a time, 
and yet hold to their sins; do not quite surrender. 
Thus affected at every revival, they are a sort of spir- 
itual rain-crow. ' They seem to know the signs and 
feel the influences; but, like that remarkable bird 
often heard but never captured, when the '^rain is 
over and gone " they are gone also, and you hear no 
more of them until the next revival season. There 
are men who are thus periodically convicted and are 
periodically on tfie point of giving themselves to God, 
and yet they pass through and pass out of life in their 
sins. 

8. The effect of these tokens. One might think the 
prophet done with praying when his faith had reached 
the rain. No use to pray, now that he has a faith- 
hearing of its coming. But not so. He followed up 
his faith with the most importunate prayer. He went 
up to the top of Carmel, v/here God had shown his 
power, and there cast himself upon the earth and put 
his face between his knees and continued in prayer, 
causing his servant to watch, and go again and again 
and look toward the sea. And, though the servant 



62 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

saw notliing but brassy skies and a sunburnt eaftli, 
still the prophet prayed on; and at the seventh going 
the servant said: "Behold, there ariseth a little cloud 
out of the sea, like a man's hand." Then he arose and 
bade the servant go tell the king to make ready his 
chariot and drive toward the city before he shall be 
cut off by the floods of rain. He prayed until the 
cloud came in sight; then he ran before the king and 
before the roaring rain-flood, and came to the city. 

Faith prays until the blessing comes. It does not 
rest in signs or sounds, but cries to God until it has 
what it wants. Signs in nature fail. The rain-cloud 
may be coming and in full view, but some counter- 
current may strike and change its course, and turn 
its blessings elsewhere. Hence Elijah continues to 
pray. He will turn back the currents and change 
the opposing forces and pioneer the way for that 
cloud by the power of prayer, and will not yield his 
place until forced to get out of the way of the floods. 
This is the true philosophy. Live^ up in the high, 
clear atmosphere, and listen until you catch the 
"sound of abundance of rain" — until you feel that 
God is coming with revival power. Then begin to 
pray as you never prayed, and continue until the 
cloud is in sight. We have heard the sound, seen all 
the indications, and known that revival was nigh; and 
even then we have known the " Prince of the power 
of the air " to dash in some counter-current, and dis- 
solve and disperse and cause the occasion to pass as 
a wind-cloud in time of a drought; and no soul was 
watered, and the Church remained unref reshed. How 
often have we seen and felt the disappointment! If 
there is ever a time when Zion should be prostrate 



Signs of Rain. 63 



and her face between her knees — if ever a time for 
continued and earnest prayer — it is when God is 
about to send refreshing from his presence. 

9. Looking toivard the sea. The prophet had his 
servant continue looking toward the sea. Out of the 
sea he expected the cloud. That scene on Carmel's 
summit: Elijah on his face in prayer, the servant on 
watch, and straining his eyes out over the sea to catch 
sight of the prayed for but unseen cloud — that is the 
Church praying and looking for revival. Divine grace 
is the fathomless sea out of which it shall come. Let 
the Church, in prayer, look toward this sea until she 
beholds the "cloud like a man's hand." Then will 
refreshing come. All the accumulated dust and de- 
bris were washed from Samaria's surface in an hour, 
and the land was a picture of cleanness and purity. 

May God only give us the rain— spiritual refresh- 
ing! Then shall the Churcbbe cleansed and quick- 
ened; the sinks of sin and places of iniquity among 
the ungodly shall be purified; the moral air of our 
city shall be rarified and sweetened; and the people 
shall rejoice as a famished land after the rain. 

M. 



VI. 

SAMSON AND THE LION. 



"And, behold, a young lion roared against him. And the Spirit 
of the Lord came mightily upon him, and he rent him as he 
would have rent a kid." (Judges xiv. 5, 6.) 

SUCH is the narrative of the victory v7on by Sam- 
son over the young lion that roared against him 
as he was on his way to secure the hand of the wom- 
an whom God had intended him to have as a wife. 
It is given to teach us how to meet the spiritual lions 
that are constantly roaring in the path of duty, and 
are sure, if not resisted, to destroy our spiritual life. 
As a Christian starts out to discharge duty he is often 
met by sloth. This is indeed a roaring lion. It is the 
enemy of man and the foe to the discharge of all duty. 
It solicits to ease and invites to slumber. Opposed 
to all Christian work, sloth closes the eyes in sleep 
when they should be open to the beauties of nature, 
to the wisdom which shines in the rising sun or the 
opening flowers, or indeed to the wisdom, purity, and 
truth found in the inspired word of God. Sloth dark- 
ens the intellect, sears the conscience, benumbs the 
sensibilities, and enslaves the will. It is a monster 
which must not be allowed to interfere with the work 
of religion. It is hideous, and its roar is death. It 
must be met with courage, and destroyed without 
mercy. By the power which the Holy Spirit im- 
parts sloth must be rent asunder as a strong man 
(64) 



Samson and the Lion. 65 

would rend a kid. We must meet sloth as Samson 
met the young lion that roared against him, or every 
[power of the immortal nature will be conquered by 
an enemy opposed to all culture and the implacable 
foe of all progress. 

Then the Christian is often met by pride. Pride 
and piety cannot live in the same heart. They are as 
incompatible as light and darkness or as virtue and 
vice. No heart filled with pride can cultivate the 
highest virtues. It is pharisaical; it is pompous; it 
is exclusive; it is detestable. It must be throttled 
with the coarage of a Samson throttling the young 
lion that roared against him. Pride brought down 
Lucifer, the son of the morning, the brightest star in 
the moral sky, and left him without light and desti- 
tute of air virtue. It would dethrone Deity and as- 
sume his place. It scorns the true and the good, and 
enthrones the degraded and the low; it deifies self 
and worships it with an Eastern devotion; it exalts 
itself above all that is called God. It must be met 
with the courage that quails at no danger and that 
becomes more defiant the greater the opposition. 
No Christian must yield to this dangerous foe. Let 
each one go forth armed with the whole armor of 
God, and oppose pride with humility and sloth with 
industry, until both die the death that has no hope 
of a resurrection. 

Sensual pleasure is a roaring lion going forth to de- 
vour all the young people of the Christian Church. 
The religion of the Lord Jesus Christ allows all that 
is innocent in human enjoyment; it opposes only 
those sinful pleasures whose tendency is to degrade 
and to ruin. It admits no compromise; it allows no 
5 



66 Arrows from Two Qwivers. 

corrupt indulgence. It is pure as the unsoiled snow. 
It forbids nothing which is compatible with purity, 
nothing which does not vitiate the taste, corrupt the 
principles, inflame the passions, or enslave the soul. 
It seeks to confer the highest happiness of which man 
is capable. But all along the path of social life this 
young lion of sensual pleasure comes forth to turn 
the feet into paths which lead to death. In the li- 
centious dance, in the pleasures found in games of 
chance, in the flowing bowl, in all the unlawful pleas- 
ures of appetite, this hungry lion is seen, and his roar 
is heard as he comes forth to scatter, tear, and slay. 
To be a Christian one must not listen to the enticing 
calls of sinful pleasures. He must close his eyes to 
all that would inflame unholy passions; he must shut 
out every sound which would invite to self-indulgence ; 
he must call for the Spirit of God, and with the 
strength which that Spirit gives, and gives mightily, 
he must overcome all roaring lions which invite to 
pleasures at once sinful and degrading. 

Covetousness is another roaring lion which ban- 
ishes charity and turns the heart to stone. It comes 
up whenever and wherever duty calls to the discharge 
of benevolent action. It forbids donations to all be- 
nevolent objects. It says, let the heathen die in utter 
ignorance of God and heaven, let the poor starve, let 
the young go uneducated, and the ignorant be unin- 
structed; let money be hoarded and wealth heaped 
up, at whatever cost of principle or sacrifice of poor, 
suffering humanity. It lives by theft and flourishes 
by fraud. It makes the heart as hard as the nether 
millstone. It is as destitute of noble qualities as the 
desert is of flovv^ers, and as barren of all virtue as the 



Samson and the Lion, 67 

mountain covered with perpetual snow is destitute of 
waving fields of corn or gardens of vegetables. It is 
colder than ice and harder than stone. In its pres- 
ence philanthropy dies and humanity is stripped of 
every virtue. It incites to robbery and murder; it 
opens the gamblers' hell and fills it with the misera- 
ble worshipers of Pluto. It would rob the dead, and 
would take from those perishing in want their last 
crumb of bread. A bar of steel would as readily re- 
spond to the cry of want or woe as would a heart from 
w^hich every noble feeling has been frozen out by cov- 
etousness. It is as unmerciful as Satan, and as de- 
structive as Apollyon. O let it be slain! It is a lion 
whose roar should determine that it be rent asunder 
by the Christian upon whom the Spirit of God rests 
mightily. Potent as is this lion, it has been often 
subdued by the earnest Christian as he went forth to 
duty — the duty of sweet charity; and it has been done, 
and well done. 

Then anger is a dreadful lion, often rising up to ob- 
struct the path of duty. It is rough and violent; it 
often fires the soul to some terrible deed. It is cruel 
and often bloodthirsty; it produces a storm at once 
violent and disgraceful, and separates brothers and 
sisters, and, alas ! sometimes husbands and wives. It 
is fierce as a tiger; it is revengeful as Cain seeking 
the death of the righteous Abel; it is death to all the 
finer feelings, and breaks down all holy resolves. It 
must be conquered; it must not be allowed any place 
in the Christian bosom; its fearful threats must be 
hushed ere they mature. It is the prolific source of 
all strife; it separated JacolD and Esau. It nerved 
the arm of Cain to lift the deadly club and to bring 



68 Arroivs from Two Quivers, 

it down with murderous violence upon the head of 
the innocent Abel. It looses the tongue with vindic- 
tive threats, and loads the pistol with murderous in- 
tent ; it sends a challenge to deadly combat, and rests 
not until vengeance is satisfied with the murder oi the 
foe. In its presence justice has no power, and the ties 
of kindred are without influence. 

The only safe rule for the Christian is to silence its 
roar by the mighty power which the Spirit of God im- 
parts. Call for this Spirit, and when it rests mightily 
upon you, then rend this raging lion with a power which 
that Spirit always imparts. So, when envy would de- 
spoil the heart of every noble impulse, let it be silenced 
forever by the mighty power of Almighty God. 

But w^e cannot enumerate the many and fierce lions 
which roar along the path of Christian duty. "What- 
ever interferes with Christian obligation may be called 
a lion because its roar is designed to silence the voice 
of conscience and frighten the young Samson from 
the divine errand upon which God sends him. The 
great moral of the narrative is: Call upon God until 
he mightily imbues you with his Spirit, and then con- 
quer the foe. Depend not on self, but on him whose 
mighty power can conquer all the devils in hell. Look 
aloft; ask divine aid; seek help from on high; seize 
the foe with the relentless power of the young hero 
in the text who rent the lion as he would have rent a 
kid, and did it because the Spirit of God came might- 
ily upon him. Depend not upon human strength; 
lean not to thine own understanding. Seek the 
might which God imparts to the inner man. With 
this you can conquer, and leave the foe prostrate and 
helpless on the field. R. 



VII. 

THE SNARE.* 



"Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler." 
(Ps. xci. 3.) 

1. Satan is here termed the fouler. A fowler, proper, 
is not the man who takes a day in a season for sport 
and recreation in the fields, as a sort of relief from 
the weary routine of daily work, but the man who 
gives his whole time and thought to this occupation, 
and makes it the business of life. The devil has but 
one business: his one work is to ensnare humanity. 
If he ever followed another calling, there is no record 
of the fact. He set his snare first, and with success, 
amid the beauties of paradise. There he fatally en- 
trapped the artless head of our race, and. with nets 
and gins and snares he pursues their fallen brood to 
this hour. Like the skilled hunter, he delights to go 
where the game is abundant. Hence he gives special 
attention to the cities, where multitudes are gathered 
within small compass. The cities are his special 
fowling places, the hahitat of every species of hu- 
manity, the places where social evils and commercial 
evils and political evils incubate and fledge and flour- 
ish. The young man coming from simple life in his 
country home to the city leaves one danger to en- 
counter a thousand. 



*A sermon delivered to the youn^ men of Atlanta, Ga. 

(69) 



70 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

2. The young are in special danger of the snare. The 
boy just entering upon city life can but be verdant. 
He has had no chance to see and know the world. 
He is often the butt and laughing-stock of those who 
have been city-raised, and hence are up to the fast 
city life. They sometimes enjoy what they term 
"rubbing the green off" the artless country youth; 
and yet they, perhaps, would be as green in the coun- 
try as he in the city. It is the young fish that takes 
the bait, the young rat that gets into the trap, the 
youiig birds that go first into the net. The time 
when the young man comes to the city is the critical 
time in his history. It is a transition period — the 
hopeful, the poetic, the unsuspecting age with him. 
He never needed his parents more than just at the 
time he leaves them. Verdant, unsuspicious, and 
easily influenced, a bad man may get his confidence 
and lead him where he will. Cut off from home in- 
fluences; hard- worked through the day; without asso- 
ciation during Sundays and evenings in the week; a 
thousand places open for amusement; drinking, gam- 
ing, and dissipation; Church-membership at the old 
home church where he was converted and baptized; 
no ties or props to stay him in right life — is it any 
wonder that the young man finds his way into such 
places as lead him from God and a holy life? any 
wonder that " a thousand young men are counted at 
the bar-rooms where a hundred are found in the mid- 
week prayer-meetings?" 

How I deplore this state of things! and gladly 
would I change it. Could these young men see some 
of the letters that come to us (as pastors) from their 
mothers (some of them widows), telling us where to 



The Snare. 71 



find their boys, pleading with us to " try to guard and 
shield them from the snares;" some of the letters 
marked with tear-drops where a mother's solicitude 
fell in briny solution upon the nervous writing, and 
closing with the words, "Don't let him know that I 
wrote you;" some of them in despair over sons al- 
ready fallen and sinking in ruin — could they read 
these letters, they would certainly and forever for- 
sake the haunts of vice and ruin. 

3. The snare is skillfully set. The artful fowler sets 
his snare with a skill so delicate that its very exist- 
ence is not presumed. It is colored or covered until 
it seems a part of the very ground on which it rests, 
and its presence is not suspected until the unwary 
bird is inclosed in its meshes. No hunter ever had 
such skill as he whose business it is to ensnare souls. 
He will set the snare right in the home; and of course 
there can be no danger there. The cards are brought 
out to while away the long evening hours; the family 
join in the game; and who can say there is danger 
here? The wine is placed on the table, and all par- 
take; and surely there can be no harm in this in the 
home circle. Thus the home and the table become 
as snares. The taste for intoxicants is formed at 
home; the lad becomes expert with cards, and goes 
out into young life educated for gambling, while 
parents in later years mourn the ruin and downfall 
of their sons, whose ruin began under their own eyes 
and approbation, in their own home. 

Gamblers' cards, that adorn the tables in the vile 
dens of infamy and are the special property of the 
low and the vulgar, are not things proper for the cen- 
ter-table of a refined and cultured home. They are 



72 Arroivs from Two Quivers. 

iinfit for the pure hands of refined womanhood; they 
are black and fearful in their history. They have 
ever gone hand in hand with the whisky-flask, the 
revolver, and the dirk; blood and ruin and broken 
hearts have marked their work in the hands of the 
godless and the unscrupulous. 

Another snare is the upper-room, where a band of 
chums meet on Sunday evenings and nights to read, 
tell stories, smoke, and take their light wines. The 
best blood of the city is found here. And even the 
drinking saloons (many of them) are quietly and or- 
derly kept, with flowers and music, and attended by 
the first young men of the city. " So a saloon is not 
such a bad thing after all." And yet these harmless 
things, these attractive things, are the well-covered 
snares by which thousands are drawn into destruc- 
tion. 

4. Satan likes his game in flocks. You well remem- 
ber the old-fashioned bird-net used by the gentry of 
ante-bellum days. They would go to the fields, locate 
the covey, set the net, and drive in the entire flock. 
Satan prefers the wholesale business; hence he takes 
men by flocks, companies, clubs, circles, and rings* 
The social element in men instinctively organizes 
them together. There is an organizing instinct. 
"Birds of a feather flock together:" quails with 
quails, and crows with crows. In every community 
men fall into circles. They can't tell why; but find- 
ing themselves congenial, they soon become necessary 
to each other. " They do not have any charter or 
legislative recognition, but by the organizing instinct 
of the social nature they come together, and their 
union is as the harmony of a choir." There are such 



The Snare. 73 



circles in this city, and the devil has trapped the 
whole flock in many cases. And if a member of snch 
a circle is moved of God to a higher life, he is held 
back by the power of this association. His regard 
for his fellows will prevent him beginning a better 
life, however strong the impulse may be in that di- 
rection. Where men are banded together in this 
manner, and one draws out, the harmony is broken 
and the music is no longer perfect. Besides, it 
breaks the social compact. If he goes out he goes 
with full knowledge of their manner of life, and they 
are uncomfortable in the knowledge that there is one 
who knows them and yet is no longer one with them. 
Hence they will, if possible, prevent his escape from 
their " charmed circle." There is too a sort of man- 
hood which says: "Eight or wrong, I will not for- 
sake my comrades;" and multitudes go down to ruin 
on this false notion of honor. 

5. Satan succeeds at certain ^periods. The old hunt- 
ers preferred the cloudy, damp, and misty day. If 
the day were bright and the air crisp, there was little 
success; the birds would take wing and leave the net. 
But if the day were dark and the atmosphere heavy, 
they were slow to fly and easily taken. 

The great soul-fowler knows his time. When the 
spiritual elements are clear and the atmosphere full 
of a divine influence; when the Church is unclouded, 
"bright as the sun, fair as the moon, and terrible as 
an army with banners;" this is the season when men 
keep aloof from his snares. But when the Church 
retrogrades, when the spiritual air thickens, when 
the misty-day period comes, then he gathers richly. 
Souls, then, are not so much on wing; but, like the 



74: Arrotrs from Two Quivers. 

birds on a heavy day, they stick closer to the earth, 
and the devil succeeds wonderfully with his snares. 

Again, He is gentle and patient I have seen the 
old bird-hunter spend hours quietly moving back 
and forth, turning the course of the covey in order to 
inclose them. Never in a rush, never hasty, never 
impatient; always pacific and gentle, but his net well 
set, and every movement smooth and proper. No be- 
ing can practice the virtues to greater perfection than 
Satan when he would entrap a soul. His game is mo- 
mentous, and he can afford to be patient. He works 
with some souls half a life-time before getting them 
fairly into his meshes. If a young man takes a gos- 
pel fright, and escapes from the influences which al- 
lure him to ruin, the wise old enemy doesn't pursue 
him and make a great racket to drive him farther 
and farther and frighten his associates, but he wisely 
lets him go for a time. I have seen a covey flushed and 
scattered, and one bird flew a long way, as if it would 
clear all danger, taking refuge beyond a hedge or 
fence-row. But the expert sportsman spotted it, and 
in an hour afterward was again in pursuit. A man 
may be awakened and turn away from sin, go into 
the Church, and so hide himself away as to feel safe, 
but the devil has him spotted and is soon on his track. 
Some hear me now who once thought they were safe, 
but now are hard pressed by the enemy. 

6. His success is great. His snares are so numer- 
ous, so artfully set, and so variedly baited, that his 
success is fearful. Those whom he cannot ensnare 
with one influence he plies with another. He baits 
with bar-rooms, social clubs, gambling hells, and 
other like orders of influence. But there are some 



Tlie Snare. 75 



fish you cannot catch with grubs. There are young 
men whom Satan cannot entice with this manner of 
bait. So he takes them with another kind; he catch- 
es some with their own pride of intellect A young 
man says: " While I don't believe in your Christ and 
your religion, yet I am not going to be found in the 
places of common debauch." All right; that suits 
the devil just as well, for he has as many on the other 
line as he can well manage, anyway. So he takes that 
young man on his theology. He gets him to think 
the Church fanatical, the gospel a sort of legend; 
and as a "thinking" (?) young man he cannot ac- 
cept the Christian religion. Young men here in your 
city, in the midst of your churches, smile at the idea 
of their mothers' religion. That is all the devil wants. 
He had as soon have a youth fresh out of a Christian 
home, and baptized with a mother's prayers and tears, 
as to have him from out a rum-hole or a brothel. 

Again. He catches others on their respectability. 
This is fine bait; the very word has a sort of tony 
and "upper-tendom " sound. A young man says: " I 
am no Christian; don't know that I ever will be; but 
I am a gentleman." And what is a gentleman? He 
is a man who behaves himself, stands on the high 
points, does the honorable, defends *'his honor," even 
if he has to go out of the State to do it; in a word, he 
is a gentleman. All honor to a gentleman! But what 
does this avail when God requires full development 
of the moral being and nature? '*If a man have a 
finely developed foot or nose, while the other portions 
of his body are undeveloped, he w^ill not answer for a 
perfect man." So with a gentleman who is at the 
same time enslaved to pride, ambition, avarice, or 



76 Arrows from Tiro Quivers, 

lust. Every man ought to be a gentleman. But to 
stop at that is to be lost; the devil had as soon have 
a gentleman as a knave. 

Again. Others are taken on some special sin. There 
is a man who desires to be saved, might be saved, but 
he is under the dominion of some special sin. He 
can give up all else with little difficulty but that one 
appetite, indulgence, an unholy thing; that is dearer 
than life; that restrains him. 

"A captive eagle had about one foot a tiny chain. 
He had been a long time in captivity. He would sit 
sullen and dreamily, when suddenly, with an impulse 
toward his own higher realm, he would arouse and 
spread his great wings and make an upward move- 
ment, only to be drawn back by his chain." 

How often is the soul moved, like the rousing eagle, 
with an upward and noble impulse, resolves, makes 
feeble effort, and is drawn back by the subtle power 
of some secret sin! One chain enough for the eagle; 
one silken sin, one sweet idol, and the soul is a hope- 
less captive. 

7. God is the only Deliverer. He is the only Being in 
the universe who is wiser and mightier than Satan, 
hence the only Being capable of overcoming him. 
The combined wisdom of the philosophers is inef- 
fective in conflict with him; there is no success 
against him except we be in league with God. But 
when the soul is in league with him the arch-enemy 
is powerless against it. Daniel was in league with 
God when he spent the night among the lions; Paul, 
when he went "bound to Jerusalem;" Luther, when 
he went to the Diet at "Worms. Let a man be in 
league with him, and perils are only pastimes, and 



The Snare. 77 



dangers are but recreations. Let a young man put 
his hand in God's hand, and he can walk safely in 
Atlanta, New York, or London — safe, though the 
snares be- on every corner, and devils thick as mos- 
quitoes in summer air. Only let the dear old folks at 
home (who loved you first, last, and all the time) 
know that you are in partnership with the living 
God, and the gray-haired father and mother will sing 
in the day-time and dream sweet dreams of their boy 
at night. 
Finally, Take ground now, 

'* There is a tide in the affairs of men 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." 

This is as true in religion as in life. And the grace- 
tides come in in the morning and go out in the after- 
noon. Young life is full of high impulse. It is easy 
for the youth to come to God, but the man in life's 
afternoon seldom comes; the tide has gone out, and 
he simply picks a few shells from the barren shores of 
his lost opportunities. It is pleasant to see the little 
child gathering shells; but sad is it to see the old 
man, in the evening of life, trying to satisfy his 
soul with the debris which life and its chances have 
left. 

Desires die. Young man, take ground; don't spec- 
ulate and quibble until your enthusiasm has leaked 
out and your high impulses have died. I know men 
who were once on a flood of feeling and desire; they 
might easily have rowed out into the mighty deep of 
salvation; they were well-nigh swept out into the 
ocean of divine life. Now they have lost feeling and 
interest, and care little for such things. Take ground 
to-day! Come into covenant with Him who is pledged 



78 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

to "deliver thee from the snare of the fowler." Make 
life a success. Let its morning be such that its night- 
fall, like the ladder of Jacob, shall rest against heav- 
en. Let life's close be as the radiant sunset whose 
glory lingers long into the night. 



VIIK 
THE SHORT BED AND NARROW COVERING.* 



" For the bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself 
on it : and the covering narrower than that he can wrap himself 
in it." (Isaiah xxviii. 20.) 

MAN is universally seeking after something that 
will give him satisfaction. Especially does he 
seek to be satisfied when he turns to any religious 
subject. The prophet describes those who, instead 
of seeking first the truth in reference to duty, to re- 
ligion, to God, and to eternity, have made a covenant 
with death and with hell, and have rejected the chief 
corner-stone, the sure foundation laid in Zion, and 
have sought for themselves a refuge of lies. This 
refuge was to be swept away, and the covenant with 
death and the agreement with hell were to be swept 
away; "for the bed is shorter than that a man can 
stretch himself on it: and the covering narrower than 
that he can wrap himself in it." 

This text teaches that the rejection of Christ and 
his religion is to make a covenant with death and an 
agreement with hell. It is to seek satisfaction when 
weary and worn that a man attempts to find repose 
on his couch. He wants a pleasant bed on which to 

^ Preached in Greenville, Ala., shortly after the death of a be- 
loved daughter. A great many people refased to come to the 
church, and this, with other sermons, was preached at the court- 
house on a Sabbath afternoon. 

(7f>) 



80 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

rest, and if the weather is cold, he wants abundant 
: covering. If, however, he is compelled to lie down on 
I a bed too short, and to have narrow and insufficient 
■ covering, then indeed he is far from finding satisfac- 
tion. Instead of enjoying sweet repose he is restless 
and dissatisfied. Such is the figure employed to illus- 
' trate the restlessness of any one seeking rest or sat- 
isfaction in infidelity. 

So it will be my duty, as it is certainly my fervent 
wish, to prove that infidelity in all its forms is as un- 
satisfying to rational man as is the short bed or nar- 
row covering to one wearied with the labors and 
cares of life. 

1. The human mind seeks truth, but infidelity does 
not give the least evidence by which any impartial 
mind can accept it as true. Not a rock or fossil has 
ever given evidence that there is no God. For all 
the researches of the geologist, there is not found 
the least evidence of the truth of the theory of evo- 
lution. The fact is that all observation, and indeed 
all history, teach that no evolution can take place 
without culture. Take the finest cotton, and it will 
deteriorate if there be no cultivation. The finest 
garden vegetables, instead of improvement, always 
become less perfect when tended by no skillful hand. 
So it is with all the animal creation. Man himself 
; will go back to barbarism if he be not subjected to 
constant culture. 

I In addition to this necessity of culture in order to 
evolution there arises another great and well-known 
truth against all the assumptions of the agnostic and 
the impudent rejection of Deity by the infidel. It is 
this: No possible culture has ever been able to 



The Short Bed and Narrow Covering, 81 

change the species. Cultivate the plant or animal 
as you will, and it remains the same, although highly- 
improved. There never was evolution of life from 
dead matter. Tyndall himself, after the most elabo- 
rate experiments, confesses that life cannot be evolved 
from dead matter without the interposition of the 
living germ. He tried it with all the skill of the 
most experienced scientists, and his failure was such 
that he declared the impossibility of such evolution. 

The testimony of real science is against atheism. 
It is the fool who hath said in his heart (not ever 
with his demented intellect), there is no God. It is 
a falsehood and sham, as foolish as false; it is a cov- 
enant with death, and an agreement with hell. It is 
as unsatisfying to the intellect seeking for truth as a 
bed too short and with covering too narrow is to a 
body worn with labor and shivering with cold. 

2. Infidelity has no consistency, no harmony, and 
cannot be true. One declares there is no God, and 
another maintains the existence of God, but denies 
the doctrine of the Holy Scriptures, and especially 
rejects the Divine Man. Such is the deist. Then 
the agnostic knows nothing and believes nothing. 
Thus a system without harmony is of necessity false, 
for truth is always harmonious. Proclaiming itself 
the friend of man, it robs him of his glory, denies his 
divine origin, and makes him the descendant of the 
ape and the twin brother of the gorilla. Yes, it 
sends immortal man to the wilds of the West, to the 
menagerie, or the zoological garden to search his an- 
cestry. Surely such a system, ignoring God and de- 
grading man, cannot be true. It is as unsatisfying 
to the inquiring or truth-loving man as husks to the 
6 



82 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

hungry or dry sand to the thirsty. The bed is too 
short and the covering is too narrow. 

3. Infidelity as a system can give no moral law — 
no rule for moral conduct — because it has no author- 
ity to bind man to obey any rule given or any law 
j)rescribed. Law is the will of the superior and bind- 
ing upon the inferior; but in this system one man has 
as much right to give law or prescribe a code of mor- 
als as another. It is true that infidelity has never 
done much in this line, and all that it has done is 
entirely without authority and destitute of binding 
force. 

4. It offers no incentive to virtue, and raises no 
barrier to vice. The consequence is that it promotes 
neither morality nor virtue. A pious infidel would 
excite universal admiration. He would be counted 
as one of the wonders of the world. He would be a 
greater show than Tom Thumb or the Siamese twins. 
It was once proclaimed as the religion of France, and 
then indeed the heavens were hung in black, and the 
earth was covered with a pall of gloom as dark as 
crime could make. The streets of Paris ran with 
human blood, while her noblest and best citizens 
were sacrificed on the horrible guillotine. 

5. Infidelity affords no light in darkness, no com- 
fort in affliction, no hope in death. It leaves the 
widow in her weeds without one word of consolation, 
such as is offered by the promises of our holy relig- 
ion; it deprives woman of her queenly dignity as the 
mother of a Christian home, and leaves man with no 
star in his sky and no hope in his heart, so that the 
past is a blank, the present is despair, and the future 
a rayless night. 



The Short Bed and Narrow Covering. 83 

6. Infidelity requires its votaries to believe that 
the best of the men that have lived was the worst, 
that the purest system is a lie, and that the grandest 
utterances are the offspring of the lowest imposture. 
According to infidelity Christianity, the light of the 
world, the hope of humanity, the friend of learning, 
the foster-mother of all benevolent institutions — such 
as asylums for the blind and deaf and dumb, and 
homes for the helpless widows and orphans — that 
this religion, which has done more than. all else for 
the lessening of crime and sorrow, is itself a lie, its 
author an impostor, and its followers either hypo- 
crites or idolaters. Surely such absurdity is too re- 
volting to human reason and too much opposed to 
man's highest interests to be accepted either as rea- 
sonable or true. Professing to be rational, it is des- 
titute of all show of reason, and is the mortal foe of 
its plainest teachings. 

7. Infidelity demands that we should believe a lie 
to be better than the truth. It claims its system to 
be true and ours to be false, and hence the best sys- 
tem ever taught to man, ever embraced either by the 
immoral or the unfortunate, is itself the merest sham 
without the least glinting of truth. It teaches that 
Christianity is a lie, and we all know history teaches 
us, and observation and experience both attest it, that 
no system has ever done so much for our race as the 
religion of Jesus the Christ. 

8. Infidelity requires of its votaries to believe that 
the loftiest of human characters was the vilest that 
ever lived. Can we believe an absurdity so repug- 
nant to human reason, and so opposed to all that is 
taught in history or by our own observation? Can 



84 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

any one not crazed by passion believe such an ab- 
surdity? Can any reasonable man believe that a 
base impostor v^as the best of men, that a lie is bet- 
ter than all truth, and that the only system which has 
elevated the race is the offspring of superstition, the 
child of passion or prejudice, and inculcating truth 
in both letter and spirit, is itself a base lie? Surely 
such a bed is too short, and such covering is too nar- 
row. It is a system without one iota of truth, and 
can afford no satisfaction either here or in the great 
beyond. 

Infidelity is a Sahara, without tree or shrub, with- 
out flower or fruit, with no singing bird or sparkling 
water, while Christianity is a beautiful garden, with 
sweetest flowers and most beautiful birds, and every 
thing to please the taste or to gratify the refined and 
pure. Infidelity is a pile of rubbish, affording no 
protection from the burning sun or the pelting rain; 
Christianity is a magnificent temple, with halls and 
corridors, with shining walls on a firm foundation, 
and with open doors inviting a weary world to shel- 
ter and protection, to find safety and repose. Infi- 
delity is a miserable wreck, with no engine, no steam, 
no oars, no sails, no chart or compass, no rudder, no 
pilot, no captain, and no motive power save the pow- 
er which carries it down, down to its native hell; 
Christianity is a beautiful ship, riding the waves like 
a beautiful sea-bird, and offering a safe voyage to the 
harbor of eternal rest. 

Now let me appeal first to you that hear me, and 
then to all who may read this sermon. Come now, 
listen to reason, and bow to Him who rules the uni- 
verse. Come to Jesus the Christ, and, acting in ac- 



The Short Bed and Narrow Corerinr/, 85 

cordance witli both reason and conscience, come and 
rest in Christ. In him is no fault. Here you can 
find all that can inspire hope and fill with peace and 
love. Eeason calls you; truth invites; Jesus pleads. 
Come away from your narrow bed, your pile of rub- 
bish, your barren Sahara, and enter the old ship of 
Zion, and come into this temple of the living God, 
and enjoy the sweet flowers and luscious fruits that 
grow in this garden of the living God. I come from 
a home made sad by death, and yet glowing with im- 
mortal hope, to offer you that which satisfies both 
reason and conscience, and fills v/ith highest hopes 
and holiest joys. Come, I pray you, come. K 



IX. 

THE SCARLET LINE. 



"And she bound the scarlet line in the window." (Josh. ii. 21.) 

THERE is majesty in the movement of men when 
God is leading. Israel is ready to pass into Ca- 
naan. The rapid and restless Jordan is checked in 
its flow; its waters recede, and stand mute and mo- 
tionless, waiting the passage of the hosts of God. 
Just beyond is Jericho, the Chicago of Canaan. 
Upon it they advance, not with bombs and batteries, 
but with the ark of God and the rams' -horn trumpets. 
Once a day, for six successive days, they compass the 
city, and on the seventh day they go round seven 
times. On the seventh round they blow the trump- 
ets and shout, and the walls totter and tumble to the 
ground. But yonder remains one bit of the wall un- 
shaken, and upon it a house, single and alone in the 
midst of the ruin, and from its window hangs a scar- 
let lino. That is the home of Eahab. Slie has not 
perished. " By faith Eahab perished not with them 
that believed not." That scarlet line is the expres- 
sion of her faith and the emblem of her deliverance. 
1. Hers was a life-risk. Marvelous rumors had 
reached Jericho concerning Israel: how the sea had 
separated before them, and how they had destroyed 
Kings Sihon and Og; and a great fear had fallen 
upon the. men of Jericho. The gates were guarded, 
and strangers suspiciously observed. To conceal a 
(8GJ 



The Scarlet Line. 87 



spy was death without mercy; but in the face of all, 
and with her life in her hands, Eahab hid the spies 
and helped them to escape. A mighty faith takes 
mighty risks. It takes the only son, and walks with 
steady step to the mount of sacrifice; it plats and 
plasters the bulrush basket, puts its babe within, and 
places it where the crocodiles crawl amid the river- 
flags, and rests composed as though each crocodile 
were an angel and each flag an armed sentinel for its 
defense. Faith walks in the places of peril, through 
dens of beasts, furnaces of fire, and amid death-val- 
leys where shades and ghosts flit past; and yet it ever 
walks without alarm. 

Here is a scene for the hand of a master: Eahab 
in conference with the spies. A star-light scene. 
They are upon the house-top and seated upon the 
flax, just a little above the city that is now nervous 
with excitement and forebodings. This heathen 
woman and these princes are in conference, and in 
the face of death she is negotiating for the lives of 
herself and family, and taking an oath at their hands 
tliat shall aid them and save her. Looking at this 
picture we may well say: "O woman, great is thy 
faith!" Faith made her name immortal; made her 
worthy to be the mother of Boaz, the mother-in-law 
of Euth, and the maternal ancestor of the Son of 
Mary. And the faith that saves us is a faith that 
that takes sublime risks — a faith that swears allegi- 
ance to God in the face of defeat, and in the midst of 
a God-hating generation; ready to hide the spies and 
help to bring humanity into captivity to him, though 
it cost criticism, ostracism, or even death ; a faith that 
does not sleep, but is seen by the night-stars, Eahab- 



88 Arrows from Two Quivers, 



like, upon the house-top, and in conference with God 
for the salvation of its loved ones. 

While the world sleeps, morally, we must stand by 
the gospel windows with firm and fearless hand npon 
the scarlet lines, the saving influences whereby men 
escape from the captivity of sin. It was a noble deed 
to let Paul down in a basket over the Damascus wall 
—a noble deed — and noble words from this woman 
when she let down the spies and said: "Get you to 
the mountains." But nobler far is it to aid a soul to 
escape the precincts of sin, and bid it " escape " and 
"hide itself in the cleft of the Eock." 

2. A practical lesson. Eahab was not looking for 
the spies, and yet she was ready for them when they 
came. Her industry and diligence made her ready. 
" Her flax was gathered, carried up, and laid in order 
on the house-top," just ready for a hiding-place for 
the spies when they came. And I dare say she knew 
just where to find that line when she needed it. It 
would have been an awkward affair had the flax been 
neglected and left in the field, and had she forgotten 
where she put the cord — nothing with which to con- 
ceal them, and nothing with which to let them down 
over the wall. 

Tet this is the way with some good-meaning souls: 
always behind when an opportunity comes. They 
have neither flax nor cord w^hen the spies come. An 
unexpected opportunity comes to do good, but the 
flax is in the field, and the scarlet line is out of place. 
They have been improvident, slothful, wasteful; and 
now, Vfhen God calls, they have nothing with which 
to respond. AVe waste enou^jh in nonsense and 
"needless self-indulgence," if it were only saved and 



The Scarlet Line. 89 



laid by, to be ready for many a call of God. That is 
wliy God has mentioned Eahab's flax, and carefully 
told us that it was "carried up and laid in order." 
He would teach us to be ready — ready for God's call, 
though it come in the night-time and from a source 
we did not expect. Whatever we have of goods or 
money, have it in such shape that God can command 
its use at any time. It is a good thing to have the 
flax and the line in readiness. 

3. The siijle of the contract. She did not attempt to 
dictate terms. If any one ever had opportunity to 
have a contract their own way, she had. Their lives 
were in her hands, and she was in flne position to dic- 
tate terms. She could have demanded as much of the 
gold and silver and spoils of the city, when it should 
be destroyed, as she wished; and had they hesitated, 
she could have brought them to speedy agreement by 
proposing to turn them over to the city authorities. 
Give some people the chance she had, and they will 
negotiate for enough to make their kin comfortable, 
and to control elections besides. But this woman 
makes but one'demand: "That ye will save alive my 
father, my mother, my brethren, my sisters, and all 
that they have; and deliver our lives from death." 
True faith only asks its own; it seeks no commission 
off of its opportunities. It never buys a widow's 
house for less than its worth because she is forced to 
sell; it never takes a poor man's home at under-value 
because it has a mortgage which he cannot lift; it 
never takes the servant's labor at half its worth be- 
cause he is forced to work at that price or starve. 

Again, She did not ask to he remoi')ed. It was a fear- 
ful ordeal she was to meet: to see her city destroyed, 



80 Arrows froin Two Quivers, 

its walls demolislied, and a wholesale butchery of its 
inhabitants; still she does not ask to be taken away 
from the dreadful scene. Trne faith does not ask to 
be taken away from the ills and evils common to life. 
It is willing to suffer and endure if it have the oath 
of God on which to stand. Eahab could witness all 
and endure all because of the oath that she and hers 
should be saved. How much we can endure when we 
feel God's promise beneath us! While we live in a 
land of uncertainties — the ground beneath and the 
sky above doomed to destruction — it is a royal 
thought that God's oath is beneath us. Eahab-like, 
faith does not ask to escape the sorrows and griefs of 
life, but only asks to feel its feet resting on the oath 
of God. 

Her request Life for herself and kindred. Had she 
asked only for herself, and been willing to see her 
kindred perish, her covenant would never have been 
recorded. Its selfishness would have sunk it into ob- 
livion. But she demands her kin, all her kin. Faith 
cries for its kindred. It demands life for all, even 
the hopeless prodigal, and the faith that stipulates 
for less is weak and selfish. Have you stipulated 
for less? Have you closed the contract with God 
and left out a single one of your family? Then, 
which one? Is it a companion, parent, brother, 
child? Then hasten back to the house-top, reopen 
the conference, put that one into the contract, and 
open not the window, nor let the divine messenger 
go, until you get assurance that the last one shall 
live. 

4. She hound the line in the in'ndow. Thus she 
placed the protecting ^gis over herself and kindred. 



The Scarlet Line. 91 



This line v/as tlie sign and guarantee of her safety. 
Israel placed the blood over their doors and were 
safe, for God had said: "When I see the blood, I 
will pass over yon." And when this blood-colored 
line is seen streaming from her window, she and hers 
are safe. Both the blood and the line represent the 
blood of Christ: the one a protection to the Jew from 
the hand of the angel, the other the protection of a 
Gentile from the hands of warlike men. How beau- 
tifully is the saving power of the blood set forth! 
"Whether a Jew in Egypt or a Gentile in Canaan, a 
Jew in Gentile lands or a Gentile on Jewish territory, 
all are safe under this blood. 

The angel was duly instructed to trouble no house 
on whose door the blood was visible. Each soldier 
in Joshua's army had orders: "When you enter Jer- 
icho, in the heat and enthusiasm of conflict and tri- 
umph, protect the house that has a scarlet line hang- 
ing from its window." So the standing order has 
gone forth from the God of armies; and angels, men, 
and devils understand that "No harm is to come to 
the soul that is under protection of the blood. "They 
that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, which 
cannot be removed, but abideth forever." ' 

6. The scene. We look upon Jericho on that fatal 
day, and we shudder. The scene is awful, the work 
complete. The walls lie in ruins; every house sacked 
and its inmates slain; the frenzied screams of wives 
and mothers, the piteous cries of bleeding children, 
the groans of dying husbands and fathers, the heavy 
heavings of butchered beasts — all is over, and hushed 
and still in death. The city is pulseless: not a man, 
woman, child, nor so much as an ox, sheep, or ass 



92 Arrows from Tiro Quivers. 

that lives. What a scene! But look! One lone house 
stands above the carnage, and rests on a remaining 
bit of the wall. What preserves it? There is no bul- 
wark round about it, no armed men within it; only a 
defenseless woman and her helpless kindred occupy 
it. Why does that bit of wall stand as adamant be- 
neath that house? Why are the inmates so serene 
and calm as they look out upon the surrounding ruin? 
What is their defense? A simple "scarlet line" that 
hangs idly from the window, and waves to and fro in 
the breeze. Thai is God's power to save. 

7. This earth is a Jericho, And it is doomed. " God 
hath appointed a day in the which he will judge it." 
His coming will be as the coming of Israel upon Jer- 
icho: "as a thief in the night." Have you "bound 
the line in the window?" Have you put yourself 
and family under protection of the blood? Have you 
settled it with God that you and yours are to be saved 
in the final destruction? Are you ready for the fall- 
ing of the walls — ready for the crumbling of the 
earthly tabernacle and an introduction into the eter- 
nal world? 

8. The line she used ivas the line that saved. The 
same line by which she saved the spies became the 
means of saving her and her family. She had doubt- 
less platted and made that line just as we plat and 
make our owm faith. And the faith which is to save 
us at last is not a special kind that has been laid by 
and kept on purpose to go to heaven upon, like a 
special suit for a special occasion; but it is the same 
old oft-tried, sec(md-hand, well-worn faith that we 
have been working with all these years. The staff 
on which Jacob leaned when dying was not a new 



The Scarlet Line. 93 



and nnTised staff, cut and kept for that dying occa- 
sion, just as some queer people keep their coffins for 
years before they die; it was the same old staff that 
had propped him in his pilgrimage, and perhaps 
supported him when he limped over the brook with a 
disjointed thigh; that staff was his prop, living and 
dying. 

The same faith which, like Eahab, has been willing 
to risk for others, and has kept the soul's windows 
continually open; the lines of holy influence reaching 
down to help others to escape from ruin — this, this 
is the faith that will support you in the last hour, 
when mortality's walls are falling; this is the faith 
that will keep you as serene in the final hour as she 
who looked from her window upon Jericho's ruin. 

9. The men she saved became her escort. The two 
whom she had saved were sent in to bring her and 
her family out, and to escort them from the ruin, 
and to give her home and dwelling among their own 
people; and that because she had been faithful. 
The order was: "Bring out the woman, and all that 
she has, as ye sware unto her." And the all-conquer- 
ing Christ, our own Joshua, will command those w^hom 
we have blessed to attend us in life's last hour. 
"When this "earthly house is dissolving," and the 
time of dissolution is at hand, shall we not be met 
and welcomed by those whom we have loved and 
blessed in life? Is not this the last testimony of the 
holy and the good? Have they not told, in a thou- 
sand instances, of the presence of the departed with 
them when dying? 

Then if we be now making up our escort from this 
world, let us have a large one. I am not careful for 



94 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

a long train, a vast multitude, to follow my dust to 
the cemetery; but I should love to see a white-winged 
multitude ascending with my tired spirit to its final 
home and rest. 

Dear fellow-spirit, candidate for immortality, see 
that " the line is bound in the window," " for at such 
an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh." 

M. 



X. 

A SERMONETTE FOR BOYS. 



"Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his 
spots ? " (Jeremiah xiii. 23.) 

THE text expresses in the strongest figurative lan- 
guage the inveteracy of habit. When man once 
becomes the slave of a bad habit its power over him 
is almost irresistible. It is about as easy for an Ethi- 
opian to change his skin or a leopard his spots as for 
a human being to free himself from the controlling 
influence of a vicious habit. Let me here define hab- 
it. It is the ease acquired in the performance of an 
act by frequent rejpetition. This facility of perform- 
ance is usually accompanied by an intense desire to 
repeat the act. 

Let me illustrate: A boy indulges in an oath. He 
is almost frightened by his ov»'n voice. Intense shame 
follows the profane utterance. He repeats it. It is 
performed with more ease and with less hesitation, 
and with no trepidation. He again repeats it, and 
after a short time he can utter oath after oath with- 
out remorse or shame, and regardless of those who 
may be horrified by hearing them. It is soon a hab- 
it. He then swears without knowing it. He soon in- 
terlards his ordinary conversation with horrid oaths 
and imprecations. Ask him to give up a practice at 
once low, disgusting, and wicked, and he will answer: 
"I cannot. I do it without being conscious of it." 

(95) 



96 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

It is his habit, and is almost as difficult to remove as 
black is from the skin of the Ethiopian or spots from 
the leopard. 

( Again, a youth is induced to take a social glass. 
He has no special fondness for the witie when it is 
ready. He has no disposition to rise up early and 
follow after strong drink; he could without self-de- 
nial refrain from it forever. He, however, is induced 
to repeat the drink. He acquires a taste for the hor- 
rid beverage and becomes a drunkard. The appetite 
enslaves him. He is no longer a free man. He is 
bound by fetters stronger than iron, and which he 
has no power to break. He is an infant in the hands 
of a giant, and that giant the worst of tyrants, and 
cruel as the grave. Can this Ethiopian change his 
skin? Alone he cannot. 

A lady takes opium to ease pain. She despises the 
drug, but is induced to repeat the dose while suffer- 
ing under a second and a third attack of severe pain. 
Soon the habit is formed. The once beautiful and 
true woman has become the slave of habit. She 
would sell her soul for the intoxicating drug. Once 
so pure, she w^ould surrender purity itself to gratify 
the unholy appetite for a drug as poisonous to the 
mind and the passions as it is ruinous to the body. 
The habit becomes as permanent as is the quality of 
black to the skin of the Ethiopian or that of spots to 
the leopard. 

A boy reads a dime novel. He is at first disgusted, 
and vows that he will never again pollute his taste by 
reading the vile stuff. In an evil moment he reads 
again, and soon he becomes a slave to the lowest 
thoughts and the most vicious passions, which are 



A Sennonette for Boys. 97 

the certain results of low and vicious literature, itself 
the offspring of the most salacious imagination. 
I So it is with cards and dice. At first the game has 
no special attractions, but by frequent repetition it 
becomes habitual. The gambler is a slave; and so 
terrible is his bondage that he would play at cards 
and fling his dice upon the casket that contained the 
body of his once loved and honored mother, who died 
of a broken heart. I have heard the poor slave to 
one of these habits declare that he was helpless in 
its grasp. Once a free man, now a slave! Such 
habits have robbed the bar of many of its brightest 
ornaments, have unfitted many a learned physician for 
his responsible duties, and, alas! alas! have reached 
up and dragged down some of the lights of the pul- 
pit, and destroyed their power amid the terrible de- 
bauches of the low and vile. Let me then give some 
rules to govern those just entering upon the respon- 
sibilities of manhood. 

1. Never commence a downward course. Never do 
a wrong or wicked thing. Ne^er take the first glass 
or throw the first card. Guard against the first step, 
and you will never take the second — never form the 
habit. 

2. Take warning by the fearful fate of others, and 
shun as you would the bite of the adder every influ- 
ence that has a downward tendency. 

3. Eemember that all bad habits are sure to en- 
slave. Good habits always leave you free, therefore 
never form any other. While free, stay free. 

4. Shun all evil associates, and never read a bad 
book. They are sure to corrupt the morals, inflame 
the passions, and at last destroy both soul and body 

7 



98 Arroivs from Tivo Quivers. 



in hell. Eemember tlie fearful warning in the text: 
" Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard 
his spots?" 

Lastly, while young and strong form good habits. 
Tell the truth; speak pure words; cultivate honesty; 
associate with the good; dare to be pious; honor 
your Creator; cling to Him who is the best guide of 
youth and the only stay of old age. Do this, and you 
will have no vicious habits to correct, and no vain 
regrets to harass you in old age or embitter your 
dying moments. E. 



XL 

AFTER BREAKFAST. 



" So when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, 
son of Jonas, lovest thou me more than these? He saith unto 
him. Yea, Lord ; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto 
him. Feed my lambs. He saith to him again the second time, 
Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? He saith unto him, Yea, 
Lord; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, Feed 
my sheep. He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son of 
Jonas, lovest thou me ? Peter was grieved because he said unto 
him the third time, Lovest thou me ? And he said unto him. 
Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest that I love thee. 
Jesus saith unto him. Feed my sheep. Verily, verily, I say unto 
thee. When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst 
whither thou wouldest : but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt 
stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry 
thee whither thou w^ouldest not. This spake he, signifying by 
what death he should glorify God. And when he had spoken 
this, he saith unto him. Follow me." (John xxi. 15-19.) 

C HEIST and his disciples are sitting together 
after the sea-side meal. He only can know the 
heart, and none can touch it so delicately as lie. Oft, 
when we would deal gently, we strike the wrong cord. 
We give pain where we would soothe; and especially 
is this the case when our owm hearts are out of tune. 
The wayward boy returns at the late night-hour, to 
receive stern rebuke from the angry parent, and is 
sent to his room under sentence of correction on the 
morrow. That boy sleeps, if sleep he can, as the 
convict in his cell. The wretchedness and unrest 

(99) 



100 Arrows from Two Qwivers. 

produce desperation, and so wilt the sensibilities tliat 
the morrow's correction is without effect. 

Peter had been wayward; he expected rebuke. 
Once or twice he had seen the Master since his bad 
conduct, and nothing had been said. But, like the 
naughty child, he is on the look-out — does not feel 
easy. But the Master is never harsh or untimely, 
even in rebuke. He says nothing to him before the 
meal, while he is tired and wet and hungry, and mor- 
tified by a fruitless night's toil. How delicate that 
wisdom that knows when to say nothing! Jesus first 
fills Peter's net; flushes him with the enthusiasm of 
success; then, with the warm meal ready, he calls 
them to "come and dine." And perhaps the talk 
while dining was of the cheery sort, in reference to 
their wonderful success after a night of failure. Then 
after they have dined, and sitting in that social rest 
and peculiar comfort which follow a pleasant meal, 
he deftly touches the matter on which Peter had felt 
such dread. He opens the interview on the tender 
side of Peter's nature: "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest 
thou me?" 

1. This talk takes the tvhole life-range. The bitter 
past was vividly though tenderly brought before 
Peter's mind. Christ had called him "Cephas," a 
rock — the solid, the reliable one. But now he calls 
him "Simon, son of Jonas" — son of human weak- 
ness. Peter had avowed a love above all the others: 
" Though all men forsake thee, yet will not I forsake 
thee." And now, after his shameful fall, Jesus asks 
him, "Simon, lovest thou me more than these?" 
This was a love-stroke that well-nigh crushed him. 
It was the love-light falling back over his conduct. 



After Breakfad. 101 



and revealing its darkness. He saw the whole scene 
again — the mob, the traitor, the captive, the court, 
the servants round the fire, and his own valiant self 
squatted in the midst. He heard again the palpita- 
tions of his own cowardly heart, and the ominous 
crowing of that old Eoman cock. Yes! That is the 
man who was going with him " to prison or to death." 
There was never a moment of such humiliation with 
him. If Peter ever seemed small in his own eyes, it 
was that morning, as he sat in the sand at the feet of 
his Master, and looked back at his own picture in the 
past. 

How the words of Christ sometimes bring the past 
in review before us! A word, a sentence re-arrays 
the by-gone experience before us. He would have 
us mindful of the past. No part of our experience 
is to run to waste. He makes our falls and failures 
as medicines for our weaknesses. Bitter medicine it 
may be, but healing to the soul. The " pains of hell," 
with the Psalmist, were a prophylactic against pain 
that is endless. That sea-side retrospect did more to 
humble the son of Jonas and fortify him for the 
future than did his heroism when he would cleave 
the head of the high-priest's servant. These reviews 
of life increase our humility; and we must get near 
to Christ to see the past clearly. The cloud in the 
west shows darkest as the sunrise glory falls upon 
it. Our failures show up in their true colors when 
we stand in the light of his presence and look back 
upon them. It is then we would kneel in the dust. 
How many denials; how oft have w^e gone over to the , 
enemy; how frequently sat down with the servants 
of sin, and warmed ourselves at the world's fires; how 



102 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

often startled by the cock-crowing of conscience — that 
interior monitor, whose alarms come to ns at all 
watches of the night! 

He asked to know but one thing. He put the ques- 
tion three times, but the same question each time — 
" Lovest thou me? " He did not ask Peter how much 
he had cried, groaned, or suffered; how deep his 
shame, or how pungent his penitence; he simply- 
asked about his love. It is not revenue or sacrifice, 
but the demand is love. Nothing but love will satisfy 
the human or divine. Childhood laughs when it is 
loved. Manhood and womanhood are brave in the 
life-battle when sustained by love. Misfortune is 
cheerful and poverty sings when they are beloved. 
And love is the staff on which old age leans to wor- 
ship, even when dying. This is heaven's draught. 
There is that in God's nature that demands love, as 
though it were needful to him. His only levy upon 
humanity is a levy of love. ^^ Thou shalt love with 
all the heart, mind, and strength." Humanity, like 
the woman of Canaan, cries up to God, " Lord, help 
me!" God looks down to answer the cry with the 
question, " Lovest thou me? " Man crying for help; 
God calling for love. This is the question pressed 
upon us every day. He asked it of Peter three times; 
he asks it of us continually. By the light of each 
rising day; by the bounty of your burdened board; 
by the music of your own child's laugh; through a 
thousand avenues of joy, like telephone connections 
with the soul, comes this divine whisper, ''Lovest thou 
me?'' Therefore, since life is a continuous tax upon 
God — upon his earth, upon his air, his patience, and 
his love — can it be less than mean, ungrateful, and 



After Breakfast 103 



ignoble to refuse him the one and only demand — our 
love? 

2. The one qualification. Jesus is now going to 
change the old fisherman into a "fisher of men." 
He will now put a net in his hand that will never 
need mending. So he is now probing to see if he 
can find the one essential element. He doesn't ask 
him if he is a Oalvinist or Arminian; whether he be- 
lieves every thing that every other orthodox Galilean 
believes; whether converted instantaneously or grad- 
ually ; whether he believes in the " second blessing; " 
but he goes deeper than the creeds and the " doxies," 
and inquires for the basis of his Christian character, 
"Lovest thou me?" Here is the qualification for 
"catching men." The preacher without an all-ab- 
sorbing love for Christ will fail. However gifted, 
however brilliant in thought or wonderful in utter- 
ance, he will never overcome opposing forces and do 
the work of a minister unless he have an ever-burn- 
ing love for Christ. As a Church-member, you will 
work for Christ and succeed in your work in propor- 
tion to your love for him. It is a joy to labor for 
those whom we love. How sweet the service when 
the impulse is love! How grand the march when 
the soul can say: 

'Tis love that drives my chariot wheels, 
And death must yield to love ! 

Jesus puts all into one sentence — how much we 
will labor, sacrifice, and suffer — when he asks, " Lovest 
thou me?" 

He trusted Peter again, Christ's forgiveness always 
includes reinstatement. He didn't tell Peter that he 
forgave him, but couldn't trust him any more. But 



104 Arrows from Two Quivers* 

for each avowal of love he gave him a commission of 
trust. 

Our forgivenesses too often lack this element of 
trust. We forgive the man who has betrayed us, but 
we keep an eye on him. We give him no chance to 
deceive us again. Like the breachy brute which has 
broken into the field, we turn him out and forgive 
the trespass, but put a yoke on him so he will not 
trespass the second time. The man who has de- 
ceived us generally wears the yoke of our distrust; 
and it is many a day before we remove the yoke and 
trust him as before. But Christ puts no yoke upon 
his penitent disciple. When he re-avows his love, 
Christ re-affirms his commission; lifts him to the pas- 
torship and care of his people — *^Feed my sheep." 
How full and complete his pardon! We feel that he 
loves and trusts us as sincerely as though we had 
never sinned. 

3. His future opened to his view. " When thou wast 
young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither 
thou wouldest; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt 
stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, 
and carry thee whither thou wouldest not." Here is 
Christian heroism in its active and passive forms — 
in the impetuosity of youth, and the patience of age. 
Peter had known nothing but his own will and way, 
and even when with the Master it was hard for him to 
keep his sword in its scabbard. But when he was old 
he learned to suffer and submit; to be girded by an- 
other and led uncomplainingly to crucifixion. Hence 
he "glorified God" in his death, showing forth a 
moral grandeur beyond all his active life. Here is 
life in its fore arid afternoon. Youth — life's spring- 



After Breakfast, 105 



time — how positive, how self-asserting! How posi- 
tive is the natural spring-time — activity, self-asser- 
tion, movement everywhere! Dame nature and all 
her children awake and stirring; grass, flowers, 
brooks, birds, breezes — every thing in motion. So 
with youth. The whole being is full of stirring 
forces — fancies, ambitions, aspirations, expectations, 
the entire being asserting itself and making itself 
heard and known. The youthful spirit, like the herd 
upon its native plain, spurns the lasso. Misfortune, 
adversity, and disaster may seek to curb it, bat it 
tosses them aside, as Samson breaking and shaking 
the withes from his hands. 

" But when thou shalt be old." Age is life's au- 
tumn-time — the time of relaxing forces. The ele- 
ments grow quiet, fruits ripen, leaves wither, flowers 
fade. Nature ceases her self-assertion, and, becoming 
passive, yields to the cold hand that girds her with an 
icy girdle and leads her to a wintery tomb. There is 
a grandeur in the autumn not seen in the other sea- 
sons — the grandeur of submission that teaches how 
to jaeld, how to suffer, and how to die. " Signifying 
the manner of death by which he should glorify 
God." There are elements waiting to gird us when 
w^e have gone further on life's way. When the sight 
is dim and the steps are short, we will meet those 
things in the twilight — consumption, paralysis, blind- 
ness, old age, and infirmity in a thousand forms; all 
these, with girdles ready, are awaiting us. We shall 
stretch forth our hands in helplessness, and these 
shall gird and lead us to the confinement of the sick- 
room, to unrest, dissolution, and the grave. But this 
will be the special time in which to "glorify God." 



106 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

This is^ the time mentioned by the Master. There 
was a captive's girdle, a prison, and a cross before 
Peter, but with it all his chief chance to honor God. 
Disease, helplessness, suffering, and even death are 
before us, but in these are our royal opportunities to 
glorify God. If God is seen in the quiet dignity of 
the dying autumn, how much more in the peaceful 
patience and holy tranquillity which mark the decline 
and close of a holy life? 

4. The command, " When he had thus spoken he 
said. Follow me." Having retrospected the past and 
prospected the future, he now receives instruction 
for the present — "Follow me." We gain nothing by 
lingering in lamentations over past failures — going 
back to mourn at those places where we sat with the 
servants of sin, warmed at the world's fires, and 
avowed that we did not know Christ. Regrets can 
never remedy the by-gone. Equally weak and use- 
less is it to be looking tremblingly forward to those 
things which wait by the wayside to gird and lead us 
to suffering and death. They are ambushed in the 
darkness of the future. It is good for us that they 
are not visible. We are not to live amid regrets of the 
past or fears of the future, but in consecrated use of 
the present, and that in the Master's immediate com- 
pany. "Follow me." This is God's command to us 
personally to-day. Doom and destiny hang neither 
on the past nor future, but on the present. To-day ! 
— more momentous than the dying day. We can 
breathe only for the present, and so can serve God 
only in the present. The order is imperative, and 
with divine emphasis — "Follow me." It has no past 
or future tense. This is the panacea for a wasted 



After Breakfast, 107 



past; the remedy for a hopeless future — follow Christ. 
Begin his service to-day — regrets will be forgotten, 
fears will all die, while the soul will ascend to that 
experience wherein it can " rejoice evermore." 

Then stay the present instant — 
Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings, 
'Tis of more worth than kingdoms ! 
Far more precious than all the 
Crimson treasures of life's fountain. 
O let it not elude thy grasp! but, like 
The good old patriarch upon record, 
Hold the fleet angel until he bless thee. 



XIL 
THE RENT VEIL. 



" The veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to 
the bottom.'^ (Matt, xxvii. 51). 

THE greatest tragedy ever v^itnessed on earth was 
fast closing amid scenes of terrible import. Jesus 
the Christ had jnst yielded np the ghost. The earth 
did quake, and the rocks were rent, the graves were 
opened, and the veil of the temple was rent in twain 
from the top to the bottom. Now let us, like Moses 
when the bush burned with fire and was not consumed, 
turn aside and see this great sight. Let us in the 
fear of God try to find out the meaning of this super- 
natural work. 

The veil of the temple separated the holy place 
from the most holy — the Holy of Holies. Into this 
most holy no living being was allowed to enter save 
the high-priest, and he only once a year, on the day 
of atonement. Jesus was crucified on the day of 
atonement, and at the solemn moment of his death 
the high-priest was alone in the Holy of Holies. 

The veil, consequently, may represent ignorance; 
for ignorance shuts out the light of God from the 
mind. Ignorance, instead of being the mother of 
devotion, hides from the poor, darkened mind the 
very evidence of God's existence, and prevents it from 
grasping the idea of the eternal and omnipotent God. 
It so darkens the mind as that it makes gods of its 
(108) 



The Rent Veil 109 



own; it bows down to the lower animals; it worships 
the crocodile; it reveres the ox; it offers prayers to 
a snake; it adores the sun; builds temples to idols; 
it offers sacrifices to imaginary deities; it forms im- 
ages, and worships them; it revels amid scenes of 
cruelty; and with garments dabbled in human gore, 
with pallid lips and frightened look and tearful eyes, 
and often with terrible self -inflictions, it worships 
objects often unworthy of respect. Ignorance created 
Jupiter and Saturn, Venus and Juno; ignorance fash- 
ioned a deity for every hill-top, and placed one on 
the crest of every wave. It filled groves and forests, 
gardens and fields, lakes and rivers, oceans and seas, 
with imaginary deities, until they were counted by 
the thousands. It covered the eye of reason and con- 
science as vnth a thick veil, and God — the true God — 
was entirely shut out. Imaginary deities were multi- 
plied, but God was ignored. The unknown God was 
ignorantly worshiped until Paul, on Mars' Hill, pro- 
claimed the only true God and eternal life. To know 
God the clouds of ignorance are to be dispersed, 
and the light of knowledge and the effulgence of di- 
vine truth must be poured upon the soul. 

Again, the veil may represent sin as shutting out 
the knowledge of God. But for sin the knowledge 
of God had never been lost. It beclouds reason, 
weakens the judgment, and unfits the soul for all 
higher knowledge; it is the bane of intellect; it dark- 
ens all its forces; it is opposed to all development; it 
corrupts all that is pure, and dwarfs its growth; it is 
impenetrable by light, and impervious to every ray of 
sunshine. The footsteps of the Creator can neither 
be heard nor seen by one resting beneath the impene- 



110 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

trable folds of this veil of sin. It is all dark and as 
separating from God as it is dark and foul, sad and 
dreary. An Egyptian niglit is light beside the dark- 
ness in which this terrible monster, sin, enfolds its 
victims. It drove man from God; it shut him out of 
Eden; it closed the doors of paradise; it said. Let there 
be darkness, and the blackness of darkness fell upon 
man and all his posterity. 

Then it is possible that the veil may have had 
special reference to the flesh of Christ. That flesh 
shrouded the Deity. It was a veil behind which the 
eternal Divinity was hidden. So Paul : " Having there- 
fore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by 
the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way, which he 
hath consecrated for us, through the veil, that is to 
say, his flesh." As the veil of the temple inclosed the 
grandest representations of Deity, so did his flesh in- 
close the eternal God. In the body of Christ God was 
incarnate. That sad countenance, that emaciated 
body, worn with fasting and with toil, that consecrated 
form was the hiding of the Godhead, was the dwelling- 
place of the Holy One who inhabiteth eternity. 

We now call attention to the typical 'character of 
the rending of the veil. 

1. It typifles the rending of Christ's flesh in the great 
work of human redemption. Without the shedding 
of blood there could be no redemption. In the death 
of Christ God is revealed as nowhere else. He is 
seen in all the acts of creation and in all the workings 
of providence. He moves the mysterious wheels. 
He raiseth up one and putteth down another. His 
is the great invisible hand that determines the desti- 
nies of empires. His fearful presence was manifest 



The Bent Veil 111 



in the giving of the law on Mount Sinai. AVhen the 
mountain quaked and smoked, amid thunder and 
lightning and the most fearful displays of material 
grandeur, he was there. In all the miracles before 
Egypt's proud and defiant king, in the pillar of cloud 
by day and the pillar of fire by night, in the wonder- 
working rod of Moses, in the path through the sea, 
and in the overflowing waves beneath which the 
Egyptians were overwhelmed; in the falling manna 
and in the water gurgling from the smitten rock; in 
all the magnificent prophecies which pointed to the 
the great coming One; and then in Bethlehem's sta- 
ble, and all along the simple yet wonderful life, to the 
Son of God — the great Eternal One is to be seen. 
But above and beyond all other manifestations of the 
Divine Being was this one upon the cross. Here the 
whole Deity is known. Power and love, wisdom and 
grace, justice and mercy, all shine in the atonement, 
as they do in no other part of the history of God's 
dealings with man. Gentleness and wrath are forev- 
er harmonized by the rending of Christ's flesh. Jus- 
tice shakes hands with mercy, and they are forever 
united as they speak in one harmonious tongue to 
angels and to men. God is seen as the great King 
and the loving Father, as inflexible as truth and ten- 
der as love, as requiring law to be fulfilled and yet 
offering pardon to the guilty. Sinai responds to 
Calvary, and Moses and Elias gather at the cross to 
witness the grandest display of the Godhead. All 
the prophets are there, and join in one harmonious 
strain to celebrate law fulfilled, God honored, and 
man redeemed. His flesh is torn, and as his blood 
pours out for the saving of the world the love of God 



112 Arrows from Two Quivers, 



is expressed as never before. Sisters, brethren, yon 
can hear Moses say, This is He that was to be lifted 
up for the healing of the nations. Jeremiah, smil- 
jing through his tears, cries out: This is the Branch; 
' come, behold, all ye that pass by. David is there, 
and cries aloud: The dogs have compassed him; the 
assembly of the wicked have inclosed him; so they 
have pierced his hands and his feet. Isaiah an- 
swers: He is wounded for our transgressions, he is 
bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our 
peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are 
healed. He has trodden the wine-press alone. Dan- 
iel stands in his lot, and harmonizing with all these 
voices, repeats what had been uttered hundreds of 
years before : Messiah is cut off, but not for himself. 
Then in one loud acclaim all join and shout: This is 
he that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from 
Bozrah, and hath trodden the wine-press alone. 
Then the All-father exclaims from the excellent glo- 
ry: This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well 
pleased. I have given him because of my love for a 
lost world, that whosoever believeth in him might be 
saved. 

Hallelujah, God reigns! Let us, beloved brethren, 
join in the chorus and shout aloud, Jesus lives. Jus- 
tice is enthroned with mercy at his side, holding out 
a helping hand. Power reaches down to save. Good- 
ness and truth blend in the richest offer of eternal 
life to a fallen world. 

I 2. The rending of the veil is typical of the tearing 
away of the cloud of ignorance which has so long 
shut out the light of God from our fallen race. 
When the veil was rent the high-priest was alone in 



The Rent Veil. 113 



the Holy of Holies. There was the divine Shekinah, 
and there the Urim and Thummim. Suddenly the 
rent was made. Light shone upon those wonderful 
representations of Deity. The Mercy-seat was re- 
splendent; it sparkled with praise. The people look 
through the rent veil, and see such manifestations of 
Deity as they never saw before. So we shall know 
more of God; we do now know more of him. He is 
better understood now than ever before; he is more 
generally known than in all the past. Through this 
rent veil a sunburst of resplendent light has fallen 
upon the world. Four hundred millions of people 
are almost dazed by this supernatural light. It 
shines; it encircles the Divine throne with rainbow 
splendors; it is fast girdling the globe. Efforts are 
being concentrated as never before. Women and 
children are gladly helping in this glorious work. 

From north to south the princes meet 
To pay their homage at his feet; 
While western empires own their Lord, 
And savage tribes attend his word. 

Brethren, the nations are falling into ranks. Truth 
is immortal; truth is powerful. Love is omnipotent. 
The gospel is aggressive. The angel is flying through 
the heavens. Light is streaming; the Sun of right- 
eousness is shining in his strength, and in full-orbed 
splendor, his round of rays complete, and with no 
dimming veil to prevent the shedding of a radiance 
which has no cloud, and which must dispel all the 
clouds and mists of earth. Hail, holy Light! Ee- 
ceive this day the greeting of this Western World, 
of this Christian assembly, and fly with more than 
electric speed to illuminate the world. 
8 



114 Arrows from Tivo Quivers. 

Again, the rent veil typifies the removal of sin 
which has so long like a dark night enveloped the 
world in its murky folds. Christ died for sin. He 
died to remove its curse. His flesh was torn and 
His blood was shed that the blighting curse of sin 
might be forever banished from the world. To take 
away sin darker than night and drearier than the 
grave Jesus Christ the Son of God was crucified. Sin 
has hung over the world and over all hearts, like an 
impenetrable veil, for thousands of years. It is to be 
finally destroyed; its life is the violation of God's 
law and the disgrace of humanity; it must be de- 
stroyed, and it will be. The heavens shall shine, 
songs of victory shall be heard, the year of jubi- 
lee shall come, when the monster sin shall be tied 
hand and foot and cast into outer darkness. Earth 
shall be regenerated; humanity shall be renewed; 
right shall conquer; peace shall pour its blessings 
upon a world disenthralled; the reproach of a race 
shall be forever washed away in the blood of the 
' Lamb. 

Then as the rending of the veil was complete from 
top to bottom, so that which it typified is complete. 
Redemption is achieved in all its richness and full- 
ness. It is finished; Jesus uttered it, and bowed 
his head and died. O grand accomplishment! O 
wondrous love ! O divine and majestic work ! Love is 
satisfied, justice is satisfied; God, in all the perfection 
of his Divine nature, is satisfied. It is finished; a 
volume in a sentence; an ocean in a drop; eternity 
concentrated in one sublime moment. All the hours 
of time meet around the cross. It is finished. Let 
the words go echoing all along the centuries and 



The Rent Veil 115 



around the world; let angels and men proclaim the 
work done — man saved, God reconciled, heayen 
opened. Redemption is to be the one grand refrain of 
heaven and earth, the one sublime acclaim of angels 
and of men. Let us, my brethren, this day join with 
this uncounted multitude in the sweetest song of 
earth or sky: Jesus died for all; the work is full 
complete, finished. 

The rending was supernatural, and so is redemp- 
tion supernatural. Let us bow to the supernatural; 
let us look through the rent veil to the mercy-seat; let 

us cry out: 

Nay, but I yield, I yield ! 

I can hold out no more : 
I sink, by dying love compelled, 

And own thee Conqueror ! 

I beseech you turn not away from this grand sight. 
The scene is sublime beyond description. God incar- 
nate is the great center and the infinite circumfer- 
ence. God is all in all — God incarnate, God redeem- 
ing, God saving. O dear friends, come with me and 
stand near the cross; see the rending veil, the torn 
flesh; build upon Him, tha living and dying Christ. 
In the name of all that is beautiful and true, in the 
name of all that is sublime in the character of Christ 
and his holy religion, say now with me: 

In my hand no price I bring ; 
Simply to thy cross I cling. 



XIIL 
ESHCOL GRAPES. 



"And they came unto the brook of Eshcol^ and cut down from 
thence a branch with one cluster of grapes, and they bare it be^ 
tween two upon a staff." (Num. xiii. 23.) 

HEKE we have test and testimony concerning 
God's word. He had promised militant Israel 
a land ''flowing with milk and honey." They have 
come into the vicinity of that land. A detail of 
proper men is sent to spy out the land, and see if it 
meets the divine promise. God will not march them 
over and into that land as so many sheep or cattle. 
He will not drive them in, but will grant them the 
privilege of going in of their own volition. They are 
to have the privilege of testing the land — know its 
excellences and obstacles — and then, standing on his 
promise, decide for themselves whether they will go 
over and possess it. 

This is divine dealing. God leaves every grand 
issue with us. We decide every land we will con- 
quer. Every Canaan has attractions and obstacles — 
tempting clusters and dreadful giants. There are 
rich fruits in the realms of science — wealth and cult- 
ure — but there are giants to overcome before we 
reach them, and it is left for us to decide whether we 
will go up and possess these lands. Likewise God 
does not drive men into his kingdom, as Jacob's 
flocks over the brook, but it is left for eve^y man to 
(116) 



Eshcol Grapes, 117 



say for himself whether he will serve God. Every 
man carries with him the royal right of choice. 
Heaven will be more a heaven by the thought that / 
cliGse it, and hell a fourfold hell by the remembrance 
that it is my own choice. My doom is of God's seal- 
ing, but my choosing. I decide it; God sanctions 
my decision. I am my own jndge, while God only 
pnts his seal to my verdict. 

I. These were select men. It was an enterprise in- 
volving great issues — their own interests and also 
those of their people. They were to spy and report, 
and that report should govern the action of the peo- 
ple. Hence the best men are selected: a ruler from 
each tribe — men who had been tested and found wor- 
thy of rulership. These men go under divine direc- 
tion, proceed with prudence and caution, and separate 
into smaller companies lest they attract notice and 
arouse suspicion. They travel as wayfarers; go to 
mountain summits, from whence the views are per- 
fect; note the face of the land, its people, products, 
prospects, and all concerning it. They take ample 
time, though in great danger, to do their work well. 
They spend forty days reconnoitering, and leave not 
the land until they know what it is and what it con- 
tains. When they recross and return to camp, they 
are prepared to report in full — all sides, phases, and 
features have been seen. 

1. These are representative men, God still selects 
the grandest characters to test and testify to the truth 
of his word. The men who have stood for God in all 
ages have been rulers of the tribes. Bulers in the 
higher sense — moral rulers. lufidelity may laugh at 
Christianity as a superstition, but can't laugh at the 



118 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

mighty men who bow at her shrine. Before these 
men infidelity stands with silent lips and uncovered 
head. Since the wise men kneeled at the feet of its 
infant Founder science and learning have ever de- 
lighted to pour their " gold, frankincense, and myrrh " 
at the feet of Christianity. And as Israel's action 
was determined by the report of the spies, so the 
world is influenced by the report of those who have 
made test of the divine promise. These people had 
seen God's power in marvelous forms. They had 
passed the plagues, followed that which was "cloud 
by day and fire by night," walked dry-shod through 
the open sea, and danced and sung as their enemies 
perished in the deep. But after all, they now act 
upon the testimony of these spies as if God had 
never spoken. Ah! the world waits for our report. 
After all God has done and said, after the mighty 
writing here recorded, after the marvelous history of 
his hand with men and nations, the world is influ- 
enced by our report at last. Men forget what God 
has done, but they don't forget the testimony of our 
lives. Is not this what Christ meant when he said, 
"Greater works than these shall ye do?" Did he 
not mean that we shall influence men by our life and 
example more than they are influenced by his word 
and his power? 

2. We have seen all phases of experience. The re- 
turning spies could make full report. We who have 
been testing the promises by years of experience, 
have seen all shades of service. We have been "up 
by the South " where the breath was like balm, and 
the flowers like Eden for beauty. We have crossed 
the valleys and sterile lands, and have been to the 



Esltcol Grapes, 119 



mounts of vision. We have noted the products, and 
seen the Anakim and the walled cities. We have 
been in the beatitudes and in the straits and dis- 
tresses of Israelitish life. There was not a feature 
of the land the spies did not see. What one did not 
see, another did. There is not a phase of experi- 
ence that is not known to some one of us to-day. 
Not a flower with fragrance untried, nor fruit with 
flavor unknown. Not a danger with horror unfelt, 
nor a weeping place whose precincts are not famil- 
iar; neither a mount of vision with summit unsealed. 
The spies were forty days, while we have been forty 
years testing the promises. And here we are now 
— the spies of God reporting to the world. What 
of our report? Are the promises true? Do we 
show ourselves satisfied with the test? Do we say, 
with Caleb, " It is enough, we are able to go up and 
possess the land?" or are we, like the ten, so living 
as to discourage men in God's service? 

II. They were confirmed by the test 

They had faith in the promise when they entered 
the land, and each day served to increase that faith; 
and after forty days they came out confirmed in the 
belief of what God had said, though ten of the num- 
ber were discouraged because of the "giants and 
walled cities." Caleb may have penetrated and ex- 
plored the new land to a point not reached by the 
others. He was the Livingstone of the exploration. 
And with deeper insight and experience, he returned 
with mightier faith. This is Christian expey^ence. 
The deeper the test, the stronger the faith The 
mightiest cedar on Mount Lebanon is the one that 
has bent under most storms and sent its roots deep- 



120 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

est into tlie 'fissures of the rocks. The mightiest 
faith is that which has heard oftenest the thunders 
of peril, and bent most frequently under adversity's 
beetling hail. Tell me how far you have been from 
land, and I will tell your fear of the ocean. The man 
who has never before seen the briny blue will reel 
at the first lurch of the vessel, and stagger, sickened, 
into his berth. The sea-tanned tar, who has lived on 
the billows, is at home in the tempest, and sings amid 
the rigging as a bird upon its wind-swayed bough. 
Tell me how often and how far out you have been 
alone with God — how often out of sight of land; 
out where no human hand could rescue, nor human 
sympathy come; out where you could do nothing 
but sink down and rest in God's hand and wait his 
deliverance — tell me this, and I will tell you how 
strong is your faith in God. Every ordeal in life, 
where the earth-lights were blown out and you left 
alone with God, was an Ebenezer from whence yo 
have walked in a mightier faith. 

III. The?j brought fruits in proof . 

This cluster proved the richness of the land. It 
was the luscious, crimson evidence that it was supe- 
rior to all other lands. The wine in that cluster stim- 
ulated the two millions. They had heard and hoped 
and thought and dreamed of the nev/ land; but this 
bunch of grapes did more to confirm their faith than 
all they had thought or dreamed. 

The world waits for the Eshcol clusters. After all 
our writing, preaching, and expatiating on the beauties 
of Christianity, the wprld asks for proofs in the 
form of fruits— fruit unlike that which it produces. 
" Show us some clusters such as the world can't grow 



Eshcol Grapes. 121 



— clusters full of the wines of love, joy, peace, self- 
sacrifice, holy heroism. We may laud our Christian- 
ity, and tell of its glories and its ecstacies; but the 
world is looking to see the cluster on the staff — to 
see what we bring out of the Beulah Land, how 
rich the fruits, what manner of cluster on the staff 
between us, and how we carry together as the report- 
ing spies of God. 

1. There was a scene when they returned. Those two 
noble men bearing that mammoth cluster. Tired, 
dusty, foot-sore, but stepping steadily and together, 
lest the grapes be shaken loose and the cluster dam- 
aged. Here they come into camp with such a trophy 
as Israel had never seen! Here is the excitement 
common when expectant thousands await the news. 
Men, women, children — all excited. There are ten to 
tell the news, and two to bear the grapes; but the two 
have more auditors than the ten. They turn from 
the story to the fruit, as children with the new book 
turn first to see its pictures. 

Those are grand lives who are banded together to 
bear the Canaan fruits to perishing humanity. Liv- 
ing, laboring, and suffering together to confirm men 
in the faith of the gospel, how essential that they 
step together. A single misstep, and the Eshcol clus- 
ter had been ruined. Have you a single line of in- 
fluence? Have you cut dov/n a single branch and 
brought as much as one cluster ? Then bear it with 
care. "See that ye walk circumspectly." A single 
false step may loose and destroy your power with 
men. 

2. It was a work for others. They had no self in the 
matter. The pains and care of carrying this burden 



122 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

all that journey were that the people might see and 
taste and know that God was true and Canaan real. 

The world is not interested in what we have seen, 
and enjoyed. It is poor comfort to a hungry man to 
tell him you are just from a feast. Humanity, in its 
hunger, wants to know what we have for it. It asks: 
"Have you brought any thing out of your years of 
experience that will help me? Any thing to feed and 
stimulate me? Have you a cluster that will give me 
new hope and a new hold on God?" 

lY. It tvas a small trophy. 

They had feasted and rested amid the rich grape 
forests, which were then in their autumnal glory. 
But they cannot carry this glory of nature back with 
them. They can only do as we — bring away a vial of 
Jordan water, a shell from the Mediterranean, an 
olive-leaf from the Mount of Ascension. " They cut 
down one branch with one cluster " out of the vast 
green and purple that clothed the valleys and fringed 
the hills. Think of it! "One branch with one clus- 
ter" out of all that wide and wasting wealth. That 
was all they could carry back; and it required two 
men and a long, weary journey to do that. 

How little of the real wealth of the atonement do 
we bring into view and live out before men! Canaan, 
in all its matchless purple and crimson, was but a per- 
ishing picture of that gospel highland where the fruits 
of the Spirit grow to perfection, where the air is red- 
olent with celestial odors, and the communion* with 
God is perfect — that life which is ours when, like 
the spies, we get over and up amid the grape-bowers 
and autumn sun of Canaan's hills. 

1. This one cluster showed ichat was there. Though 



Eshcol Grapes. 123 



they could not bring the fruit-wealth of Canaan over 
into the wilderness, yet th^y brought enough to show 
what was there. One bunch was ample for this. It 
showed the quality, and they must go over themselves 
to see and know the quantity. Here were grapes such 
as Egypt's Goshen could never produce. Though 
twelve picked and prominent men had been gone forty 
days and brought back this single cluster, yet there 
w^as a power in it that will never die, a flavor known 
to the Church to this day. To the men of the world 
the Church seems to be a long while doing little. But 
ever arid anon we see a life in the Church such as the 
world can't produce — ^ life, like the Eshcol cluster, 
that is undying. Every age, condition, and commu- 
nity has a production known only to Christianity. 
There are lives in your memory, and in your midst, 
that will never die. Like the Eshcol grapes, they will 
live and ever be rich and sweet and beautiful. 

2. The "proof teas positive. They saw and tasted the 
fruits before crossing over. No hearsay foundation 
for their faith. They had threefold testimony: 
God's word, the statement of the noblest men in their 
ranks, and the sight and taste of the Canaan fruit. 

Ours is not a religion founded upon tradition or 
legend; but it rests upon God's word, the testimony 
of the noblest men of history, and our own experi- 
ences. While resting on his word, firmer than Gib- 
raltar, our faith brings to us an occasional cluster 
that flavors of immortality. We have elevated hours 
wherein we partake of fruits grown in latitudes far 
above this dull earth ; hours when we partake of joys 
known only to the supernatural. 

An Eastern conqueror, marching to take possession 



124 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

of a certain country, contrived to have his soldiers 
taste the wine of that land; and such was its excel- 
lence that so soon as they had tasted it they vowed 
the conquest of that land. " The kingdom of heaven 
suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force." 
As soldiers of Christ we are marching to the conquest 
of the heavenly highlands, and God allows us to taste 
its wines, to know its joys, that we may be filled with 
holy heroism to conquer and possess it. Have you 
foretasted the joys of the redeemed ? Have you tasted 
the grapes that grow hard by the Eshcol brooks in 
glory? Have you had hours when you were above 
the world and its care and sorrow — lifted up until 
" whether in the body or out of it you could not tell? " 
Hours when you breathed the fragrance and beheld 
the fruits which perfume and hue and color the hills 
of God? Is this joy worth life's battle? Is it worth 
what it costs in' the marchings weary and fightings 
sore? My brethren, taste this fruit, and know that life 
is worth living. God refresh you with occasional 
Eshcol clusters until the campaign shall end amid 
the celestial bowers! M. 



XIV. • 

THE RACE TO DEATH. 



" If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied 
thee, then how canst thou contend with horses ? " (Jer. xii, 5.) 

HUMAN life is a struggle, it is a race; a battle. 
If a person desires to be good, he has to fight 
against the world, the flesh, and the devil. If he is 
determined to be wicked, he must fight against reason, 
conscience, and all the moral influences which are 
designed to make him better. In the text this con- 
flict is compared to a race. By footmen are meant 
our equals, and by horses are meant our superiors. 
The way of the transgressor is hard. God has ob- 
structed the path to ruin. The stubborn, unyielding 
sinner is opposed at every step by Him who seeks 
man's best interests both for this life and the eternal 
life in the great beyond. God first sends his foot- 
men, and if they weary him but do not overcome 
him, then he will send his horses, to which he will 
be forced to yield. The text is highly figurative, and 
in discussing it we beg to call your attention first to 
the footmen. 

These are the ordinary means employed to turn 
men from sin, all of which are designed to weary the 
sinner in treading a pathway so opposed both to in- 
terest and to duty. Thus every irreligious man has 
to contend against the dictates of enlightened reason 
in pursuing his way to ruin. Eeason teaches the ex- 

(125) 



126 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

istence of God; his glory shines in every star; the 
firmament showeth his handiwork; day unto day ut- 
tereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowl- 
edge, and in the ear of reason each loudly declares 
the existence of God. Yet the atheist closes his ears 
to every voice of nature that declares the existence of 
God. His own complex frame, with every bone and 
muscle and vein and sinew, exhibits design, and de- 
sign cannot exist without a designer. The hand, 
which distinguishes man from all the lower animals, 
in the wisdom of its plan and the perfectness of its 
adaptation to all the different tasks assigned it, si- 
lently attests, in every movement, the existence of a 
great intelligent First Cause. So every thing above, 
beneath, around — from the grain of sand to worlds 
of inconceivable magnitude — teaches the same great 
truth: that there is a God. Surely it must weary 
any rational man to shut out all these evidences and 
declare that there is no God. Reason has to be out- 
run by this accountable being as he refuses to listen 
to the declaration: There is a God. 

Then conscience impels to virtue and restrains 
from vice, and imperfect harmony with reason oppos- 
es every form of infidelity. It is another one of 
the footmen against which all that are running the 
race to death are compelled to contend. Then we 
have, all over this country of ours, stated preaching 
on the Sabbath-day, and often a social meeting for 
song and prayer some night during the week. These 
are the ordinary means of grace designed to effect the 
salvation of men. The preaching of the gospel, the 
voice of sacred song, the utterance of humble, earnest 
prayer, the testimony of loving, faithful Christians, 



The liace to Death. 127 

are all designed to turn the sinner from his sins and 
to cause him to determine to change his course and 
make a start for heaven. Here, too, in these Sab- 
bath and week-day gatherings, invitations, tender, 
frequent, earnest, and loving, are often given to every 
prodigal to come back to his Father's house; to every 
unconverted man to turn from the way of the trans- 
gressor and enter the path of the just which shineth 
brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. 

Then in all the ordinary dispensations of divine 
providence there are calls to virtue; calls from sin to 
holiness; from darkness to light, and from Satan to 
God. In the succession of day and night, of summer 
and winter, of spring and autumn; in the shining 
dew-drop and in the fruitful shower; in life and 
death; in health and sickness; in the joys of home 
and the events of domestic life; in all the ordinary 
changes of the rolling year, he utters forth a glorious 
voice, tender as a mother's as it softly falls from ma- 
ternal lips upon the ears of childhood, inviting from 
wrong, deceit, and all forms of sin, and calling to all 
that is true and beautiful and good. 

Then we have all the ordinary calls of the holy, 
to which the determined sinner must turn a deaf ear, 
as they enlighten, correct, reprove, and warn all to 
heed their different voices, and cease to follow a road 
which as certainly leads to eternal woe as God is true 
and man is responsible. 

All these instrumentalities are regarded in the text 
as footmen, to contend with whom is the work of all 
unconverted and determined sinners. It is certain, 
however, that these influences necessarily harass and 
weary the men and women possessed of ordinary 



128 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

common sense wlio are continuing their downward 
course. The regular ministry of a faithful pastor, as 
he preaches Christ and him crucified, must touch the 
conscience, alarm the fearfe, and, to some extent at 
least, arouse the guilty to a sense of duty and of dan- 
ger. A spell of sickness or a death in the family 
often comes as a warning to prepare to die. Still 
one's eyes may be closed and ears shut to all these 
influences so sacred and so pure. The heart may be 
kept impervious to all these sacred influences, and 
though wearied the stubborn soul may resist and re- 
ject. 

The prophet desires to teach us, in the second 
place, that God often employs extraordinary means 
to save the lost. These are called in the text horses. 
The argument is, if the ordinary means bring wea- 
riness to the sinner, the extraordinary must almost 
necessarily break down the sinner and cause him to 
yield to the superior force. If footmen weary, horses 
must overcome; if equals cause unrest, what will be 
the result of a struggle against the heaviest odds? 

The means used on revival occasions, the extraor- 
dinary testimonies of God's saints, the fervent 
prayers of pious men and women, the shouts of 
happy Christians, the speaking countenances and 
flowing tears of young converts, together wdth extraor- 
dinary and most powerful appeals from the pulpit 
cannot fail to move the heart, arouse the conscience 
and stir the soul to its depths. 

For the further elucidation of this wonderful pas- 
sage of holy writ allow us to refer you to the sixth 
chapter of Revelation. Here John has a vision of 
horses sent forth in God's providence to turn the 



The Race to Death. 129 



sinner from sin to holiness, from error to truth, from 
Satan to God, and from hell to heaven. First, we 
have the white horse, and He that sat on him has a 
crown upon his head and a bow and arrow in his 
hand, and He goeth forth conquering and to conquer. 
This is a glorious vision of the risen Christ going 
forth to the conquest of the world; it is Jesus of 
Nazareth, preached by all the evangelists from the 
resurrection until now. On the third morning after 
the fearful wrestle with death He proclaims Himself 
the resurrection and the life. The grave is disman- 
tled and death is conquered. He then mounts his 
snow-white conquering charger, and soon the arrows 
fly and thousands are brought home to the Saviour. 
He traverses Palestine; he moves like a warrior, wdth 
his sword upon his thigh, along the Mediterranean; he 
throws his arrows along the isles and over the conti- 
nents; after awhile he stands upon the shores of the 
Atlantic and prepares to make a mighty leap across a 
storm-swept ocean. As he makes th at leap — the great- 
est ever made — he turns his bow and arrows upon the 
isles of the sea, and they receive his law, just as the 
great prophet Isaiah had foretold. Then all along 
the Atlantic coast, and across the mountains and over 
the Father of Waters, and beyond the Rockies, the 
white horse and his rider are seen moving in sublime 
grandeur like the apocalyptic angel, and all for the 
conversion of the world. His arrows pierce to heal, 
and wound to save. Uncurbed by bit or bridle, the 
white horse of the gospel, with this royal rider, with 
strength unwasted and speed undiminished, moves 
around the world to its subjugation and to its eternal 
redemption. 
9 



130 Arroivs from Two Quivers. 

Hide on, thou Babe of Bethlehem ; ride on, thou King 
of glory; ride on to the conquest of the world, till sin is 
banished and Christ forever enthroned — God in Christ 
acknowledged as the one supreme and eternal King. 

Then the prophet looked, and beheld a horse that 
was red, and power was given to him to take peace 
from the earth. The red horse is a vivid representa- 
tion of war — war, w^tli garments rolled in blood and 
the land filled with carnage. God calls to peace and 
righteousness, to life and love, to heaven and happi- 
ness, by the red horse of w^ar, the roar of artillery, 
the whistle of shells, the shrill sound of rifles and 
muskets, the gleam of a thousand swords, the groans 
of the dying, and the streams of human gore — all are 
voices crying: "Prepare to meet thy God." 

Then another horse that was black, representing 
famine, appears to the vision of the prophet; the cry 
is, A measure of wheat for a penny, and three meas- 
ures of barley for a penny; and see thou hast not the 
oil and the wine. Want, starving want, is represented 
by the black horse and his rider. We may not fear 
famine in this land of plenty; but let the sun with- 
hold his radiant light and heat, let the clouds cease 
to pour down the fruitful showers, and soon the 
gaunt form of famine would be stalking over the 
land. It may not come here, through the abundant 
mercy of God, and yet he may send it that no means 
may be left unemployed to save the lost. We know 
that the black horse has been seen in China and In- 
dia and in many places on the Dark Continent, and 
that in every step ]]e has warned a sad and suffering 
people to turn away from idols and turn to the liv- 
ing God. 



The Race to Death. 131 

Last of all, the pale horse appears in the field of 
vision, and death is sitting upon him, and hell fol- 
lows after. The livid horse, with the stalwart form 
of death riding him, is sure to conquer; he enters, 
and there is no defense. Look at that home, how 
bright and happy it is. Suddenly a loving wife, a 
devoted daughter, a promising son, or a noble hus- 
band is taken sick. The doctor is sent for; he comes 
in haste. The pale horse and his rider are there. 
No courage, no skill can save. Soon death is in that 
once happy home; crape is on the door. Sadness 
and sorrow have taken the place of joy and mirth. 
Those lips are still and pale and cold, and though 
closed they utter a deep sad, voice. Be ready, 
in such an hour as you think not the Son of man 
Cometh. Will you not listen to this voice? Will you 
not come at this call? You may outrun the other 
horses, but at last the pale horse and his rider, with 
the long, insatiable scythe, will mow you down. Vic- 
tor he is coming; doctors cannot keep him away; he 
is at the door; be ready, or it will be forever too late. 

Learn from all this, dear friends, that God does 
not desire your eternal undoing. No, no; he gave his 
only begotten Son that whosoever believeth on him 
may have everlasting life. The Father, the Son, and 
the Holy Ghost, the great Triune God, calls you by 
providence and grace, by death and life, by peace and 
war, by health and sickness, by all that is bright and 
joyous in heaven and all that is dark and terrible in 
hell, to quit the paths of sin and turn to those of 
holiness. 

And now, with an earnestness begotten by the 
Spirit Divine, with a sense of responsibility solemn 



132 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

as eternity itself, with a heart whose every throb is 
for the salvation of souls, let me beg you, dear 
brethren, to co-operate with the great Head of the 
Church and try to win souls; and let me beseech you, 
dear unconverted friend, no more to contend with 
either footmen or horses, but bow to Christ and be 
saved. E. 



XV, 

UPWARD AND OUTWARD. 



" And there was an enlarging, and a winding about still up- 
ward to the side chambers : . . . and so increased from the 
lowest chambers to the highest." (Ezekiel xli 7.) 

n^HIS is the prophet's vision when, guided by the 
-^ angel, he surveys the temple. Standing in the 
center within, he beheld the structure '' enlarging and 
winding about still upward." This earth is God's 
temple, and we are being led through it. We stand 
in its midst to-day, and with a quickened vision life 
takes the form and fills the outline drawn by the 
prophet. 

1. God's plans and processes are upon this principle. 
His conceptions have an endless enlarging. The cy- 
clone, with its tip but touching the earth, uplifting 
all into its ever-expanding circle, is nature's portrait 
of the thought of God. Its force and its form are 
like the plans of God. They lift us up when they 
touch us, and their law is perpetual expansion. God's 
processes are cyclonic. Their volume never decreases. 
From the moment they touch the child consciousness 
there is an enlarging until age ends probation, and 
eternity unfolds the fullness of God. Enlargement is 
the laiv. 

Physical life is upon this principle. Beginning at 
lower, it ascends to the higher and broader planes. 
A diminutive flesh and blood environment is its be- 

(133) 



134 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

ginning. The babe is but a pulpy, powerless little 
animal. It knows nothing, loves no one; but lies and 
kicks, and crows or cries, and feeds by instinct as 
other infant animals feed. But its life soon begins its 
enlargement. Intelligence buds. Reason begins to 
develop. It begins to find out and to know things. 
Life enlarges every day. At a certain point in the 
advance the moral sense begins to unfold; con- 
science asserts its claims; and, last and highest of 
all, the spiritual faculties. This life is an enlarge- 
ment from the infant to the adult — physical, mental, 
moral. True manhood is the last and best develop- 
ment. 

2. Soul-life is on the same principle. Nature always 
counter-currents grace. The rivers get larger as you 
go downward, and smaller as you go upward. The 
spiritual currents run upstream, and get wider as 
they get higher. Our last and highest possibilities 
being in the spiritual, we get larger as we go upward, 
and less as we descend. 

Each succeeding chamber in the " vision temple " 
was larger than the one next beneath, and the larg- 
est was topmost. You may tell whether a man is 
growing if you but find where he lives. If he is 
living in the upper chambers, in the spiritual facul- 
ties, then his life is enlarging, his influence strength- 
ening, his usefulness increasing. If he is living 
down in his basilar nature, in the physical, then he 
is growing in that department. Where his life con- 
centers there he grows. He gets to be more and 
more an animal every day. He lives as an animal, 
thinks as an animal, enjoys as an animal, aspires as 
an animal. The. enlargement of such a man is an avoir- 



Upward and Outward, 135 



dupois enlargement. And the difference between the 
infant and the man is one hundred and eighty pounds 
of fluffy mortality, as determined by the grocer's 
scales. 

3. Life is a failure without enlargement. God re- 
quires and expects that men shall gain in their 
higher nature while they have a being. He demands 
what we demand. We require every thing to respond 
to this law of enlargement. Civilization rests on it. 
The tardy movement of the pioneer period will not 
answer for the push and press of to-day. We require 
the farm to produce more this year than last; our 
factories to give off more this year than last. We re- 
quire our cities to advance more this year than last; 
and our churches to do more than in the year past. 
Not merely "fruit," but "more fruit." This is the 
Bible demand. 

4. A^td we judge things by this. If you have an an- 
imal which you cannot improve, you soon dispose of 
it; a tree you cannot make better, you cut it down; 
a farm you cannot make richer, you sell it and " go 
West." If you have a trade that pays no more than 
when you were an apprentice, you abandon it. A 
business that pays no more in the tenth than in the 
first year, you quit it. And if we are no better 
preachers after years of experience, then in mercy 
to the people we ought to quit. 

5. Thus tvith the Church. The Church must shape 
herself to this enlargement principle, and take form 
of the rising temple. To do just what she did last 
year, and no more, is to remain at last year's size. I 
do not wonder that the husbandman grew impatient 
with the fig-tree after three successive years of fail- 



136 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

ure — to feed and feed, and see no development. I 
have seen some pigs which you might feed from 
month to month, and if they did not get less, I am 
sure they were not perceptibly larger. The old farm- 
ers call them " runts,'' And there is no pleasure in 
feeding or looking at a runt. 

Let a soul or a Church eat and eat, from year to 
year, and get no larger or stronger — do no more than 
it did ten years ago, wear slick in the old ruts, make 
no changes, originate no new plans or enterprises — 
and we need not wonder if God himself grow tired of 
the sight. If the sight of an unthrifty animal be an 
offense, what divine patience is needed to perpetually 
feed and bear with the spiritual runthood in the 
Church! There are men w^ho have grown in estate, 
in influence, in public favor, in experience, and in 
avoirdupois, have grown fat on divine grace and good 
fare, and yet have not grown an inch in their higher 
nature in ten years. 

6. This enlargement prmciple produces pleasure. 
Where it is dominant you will find the joy forces 
and faculties are quick. Show me an ascending peo- 
ple, and I will show you a people who are singing as 
they go. Men never sing as they go down-hill. Your 
Gate City (Atlanta) is cheery and attractive because 
it has that magnetic charm which ever marks ad- 
vancement — that spirit that wakes the joy faculties, 
and makes the stranger to feel a pulsing life round 
about him that gives pleasure. Tour city will sing 
while she lives under this law. 

But if public sentiment run down into individual 
selfishness, and the moral degenerate into the mate- 
rial, and in place of living for the elevation of all 



Upward and Outward. 137 

each begins to live for himself, then will her beauty 
wane. Let ghoulish greed arise, and the money-god 
mount the morals of your city, and the ride will be 
rapid and rapidly down-hill. 

7. A7id it is as true of yovr soul as of your city. 
When ascending, enlarging in the higher nature, the 
joy faculties, like the birds at day-dawn, are awake 
and singing. The ascending soul is the singing soul, 
and the soul that draws. It has magnetic power to 
lift men up and make them better. That soul has 
power that lives in a smile. The selfish man doesn't 
smile much. He cannot afford it; his smile might 
benefit some one, and he lose the per cent, on it. 

8. Variety is another law of experience. "And there 
was a winding about." There were three and thirty 
chambers in the sides of the vision temple. These 
were arranged in ascending order, each higher and 
larger than the one next beneath it; and the ap- 
proach from below was by that "winding about" — an 
ascent indirect, curvilinear, zigzag, full of windings. 

These temple chambers illustrate the years of ad- 
vance to manhood, and the windings between portray 
the way 'twixt life's birthdays. But lift the figure, 
and let " three and thirty chambers " represent the 
advance from conversion — from spiritual birth to 
manhood. The converted, life is the true life. ' Life 
before this was lost life. Many would gladly forget 
the life "lived in the flesh." Each year has been a 
"winding about." Much is a mountain ascent. 

Crossing the Alleghanies for the first time, we 
were surprised at one point to find that after making 
a sharp curve in a crevasse and running for a time, 
we had lapped about, and our train came back only a 



138 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

little way across from where we had crossed before, 
only we were a few feet up the mountain-side. The 
zigzag run had gained us a few feet in the ascent. 
Again we were surprised when looking from the car- 
window w^e saw the clouds beneath us, and the fleecy 
billows floating in the sunlight far below. The train 
seemed as if it had taken wings and was bearing us 
far from earth and the elements common to life. 

9. Such is life. We climb its mountains in a zigzag 
course, and much of the pilgrimage is mountain- 
climbing. More ranges to cross in life than in cross- 
ing a continent. We must cross a score of "Allegha- 
nies," "Eockies," and " Sierra-Nevadas " before we 
get across the life-continent and out at the Golden 
Gate. And sometimes the life winds laboriously 
through some deep trial, as a train through the 
mountain crevasse, when the sun is obscured and we 
run a whole year and then find us but little away 
from where we were. But if we are but a few feet 
higher, the labor is not lost. It takes a long while to 
gain little in some of the steep places of life. The 
temple stairway was winding about, '- but still up- 
ward." Life, with all its zigzag windings, may be 
" still upward." Hence, when your experience comes 
lapping back, almost repeating itself, do not be dis- 
couraged. If only you are a little less earthly and a 
few moral feet higher, then all is well. 

10. Again, There are hours of elevation. Times when 
the life-train seems to have taken wings. The mount- 
ains are beneath, the clouds are far below, and the 
sunlight upon them like the reflection of heaven's 
gold. These are the surprises; the openings of heav- 
en; hours on the "delectable heights," that make us 



Upward and Outward. 139 

strong for the ascent of the next range in the pil- 
grimage. 

Who has not had these transfiguration moments; 
times when you were out and up from the noise and 
sight of the sensuous; times when the car- wheels of 
rushing life were unheard, and you were lifted up in 
spirit? The natural had yielded to the supernatural, 
and your spirit was floating, floating away and up- 
ward to its God. 

11. These Tabor hours ar^ needfuL The Master had 
need of one Tabor amid the mountain-ranges of his 
vicarious life. How much poor and struggling hu- 
manity needs them to give it strength! Paul, in a 
weak hour, was lifted to the "third heaven," and it 
strengthened him for fourteen years. 

12. The advance ivas steady and unbroken. There 
was increase from the lowest chamber to the highest. 
This is true life, filling its true destiny. No gaps; 
no vacancies; no fruitless periods; no spaces upon 
which to look back and say, "That and that were 
blanks in my life." Some lands yield well if they have 
just the right season — the spring not too early nor 
too late; the season not too wet nor too dry — but if 
the season be a little unfriendly, there is failure. 
So many grow and develop in Christian life, if the 
season happen to hit right; if there be nothing to 
hinder, depress, or try them. But it is the grand 
life that thrusts its roots deep into the soil of truth 
and grows on and up despite the seasons. The 
drought may kill the grass and blight the fields and 
wilt and wither the bushes, but the grand old oaks 
live and grow, despite the drought. Their roots 
strike deeper than summer drought and take hold on 



140 Artwvs from Two Quivers. 



original earth. Let the roots of your faith strike 
deeper than circumstances or surface influences. 
Then each year will be an advance; each birthday 
will bring you to a loftier and larger chamber, a 
broader liberty, and grander manhood in Christ. 

13. There is grandeur in such a life. So in league 
with God as to grow more beautiful at every change; 
larger each season; growing as grows the oak, regard- 
less of conditions. Adversity adds to the beauty of 
such a life. 

It is autumn now. We call it the sad season; and 
yet the leaves die beautifully and painlessly. How 
manifold and glorious the hues and tints that fall 
about the bed of dying nature! Like our own dear 
ones, the leaves are loveliest when dying. It is as if 
there were a glory future for the foliage, with its 
glintings falling back upon it as it dies. 

14. And one has heautifidly said: " The falling of the 
leaves opens the view'' It is when the leaves have fall- 
en that the vision opens on every hand, the air grows 
thin, and distant things seem so nigh. What views 
when the leaves are off; the mountain, the clear forms 
of the hills, and the houses on the far-off elevations; 
a thousand things visible which were before unseen! 

Thus, many times, are we shut in and darkened by 
earth foliage. The world grows upon us, luxurious 
and lush, and we dwell in earth shade, like the dense 
foliage of summer, and see little beyond ourselves. 
But when the frosts fall, when adversity comes, when 
these things quietly fade and fall as the autumn 
foliage, then the vision clears and the views enlarge; 
then we see the far-off hills, the heavenly mansion, 
the clear outlines of ''our Father's house," M. 



XVL 
THE RESURRECTION 

AN EASTER SERMON. 



" I am the resurrection." (John xi. 25.) 

O TJCH is the strong metaphorical language used by 
^ Christ to illustrate his relation to the great truth 
of the resurrection. He is the Author and Eounder 
of the resurrection. 

Of course we have to depend upon the teachings 
of holy writ for our proof of this cardinal doctrine 
of Christianity; but it is the beauty of our holy re- 
ligion that its teachings are all sustained by the anal- 
ogies of nature. Truth cannot be inconsistent with 
itself. Harmony universally exists between the voice 
of God as heard in nature and as repeated in revela- 
tion. It is to this striking analogy that we refer 
for our first proof of the resurrection of the human 
body. 

The rising of the sun after a night of darkness is 
a literal resurrection — a rising again. A man created 
and awaking to life, with all his powers matured, 
would enjoy the glory of a cloudless day. Every 
thing around him would fill him with a sense of the 
majesty of creation. The blue vault of heaven, the 
glorious king of day pursuing his shining course 
from east to west, illuminating mountain and valley, 
and the whole visible world around him, with trees and 
shrubs and flowers, all sparkling beneath the rays 

(141) 



142 Arroivs from Two Quivers, 

of the king of day, would most deeply impress him. 
Still more forcibly would he be impressed with the 
animate creation — with flocks and herds, with birds 
and beasts roaming the earth or cleaving the air, and 
thus giving variety and animation to the scene. But 
when the sun ceased to shine, and night hung her 
dark curtain over the earth, a solemn dread might 
fill him, and he might wonder if the light would 
never shine again. Knowing nothing of the laws 
of nature, and unacquainted with the regular suc- 
cession of day and night, he might, and would nat- 
urally, suppose that the sun had gone down never 
to rise again, and that he would never again see his 
face or enjoy his light. Anxious and sorrowful, he 
would naturally look for a perpetual night which 
w^ould forever shut out from his vision all the glories 
of the day which had filled his soul with such rapture. 
But when the night had passed, and the rising dawn 
foretold the coming of another, hope would revive 
and he would look with joyous expectancy for the 
rising sun to chase the last remains of darkness 
away. And as the sun appeared — first the outer 
rim, and then one-half of his brilliant face, and then 
the whole disk all shining in full-orbed glory — he 
would cry out from the depths of his heart, and with 
joy in every feature and in every intonation of his 
voice; he would shout aloud, "Eisen again! risen 
again! " So it is, after every night of storm or calm, of 
sorrow or mirth, of gloom or gladness, God promises 
the doctrine of the resurrection by the rising again 
of the material sun. How hopefully is this rising of 
the sun looked for by the storm-swept mariner, who 
has passed a perilous night upon the dashing bil- 



The Resurrection, 143 



lows of the deep. The storm sweeps, the winds wail, 
the billows threaten; darkness reigns, and hope bids 
watch and wait. 

It is said of Philip, king of Macedon, that he em- 
ployed a page whose daily business it was to say to 
him: " Philip, thon art mortal." So God employs his 
messenger, the great center of revolving worlds, to 
proclaim not that man is mortal, but that he is im- 
mortal, and that if he dies he shall live again, and 
that the night of death shall be followed by the cloud- 
less splendors of the resurrection morning. 

Again, the truth of the resurrection is proclaimed 
by the return of spring after the cold winter. When 
winter comes, and earth puts on her snowy garments, 
then vegetation ceases to flourish, flowers fade, fruits 
decay, all growth is arrested, seeds lie dormant, hy- 
bernating animals seek their dens, and birds of pas- 
sage fly away to sunny climes. The fruitful soil is 
fast bound in fetters of ice, forbidding plant or flower 
to peep its head above the silent grave in which it is 
buried. But when winter is over and past, and every 
thing assumes a new aspect, the resurrection of spring 
comes on ; birds sing, the turtle-dove cooes, plants grov/, 
flowers bloom, hills and valleys glow with life and 
sparkle with praise. The icy fetters of winter are 
broken asunder by the warming beams of the sun in 
spring-time, and frost and snow disappear before his 
shining face. So shall death disappear before the 
face of the Sun of righteousness in the great morn- 
ing of the resurrection. Thus in every revolving 
year, as the death of winter is followed by the life of 
spring, as roses bloom, and flowers of every hue dis- 
play their beauties and shed their fragrance abroad, 



144 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

Oiature proclaims in every rising plant and swelling 
bud and unfolding leaf and opening flower, the grand 
truth of the resurrection. Paul, in his inspired teach- 
ing of the resurrection in 1 Cor. xv,, employs the fig^ 
ure of a grain of wheat quickened into life and grow- 
ing with a new body after its death. So in the growth 
of every vegetable, from the mighty oak which has 
resisted the storms of a hundred winters, to the tiniest 
plant that grows, does the God of nature proclaim the 
resurrection of the dead. 

The beautiful illustration given by Bishop Butler 
is familiar to nearly all. The silk-worm weaves its 
shroud and passes into thp cold embrace of death, 
and there it remains for months. But lo ! a change 
comes. It bursts the cerements of death. The crawl- 
ing worm becomes a beautiful insect with painted 
wings and glowing beauty. It disdains the earth 
and crawls no more. The hairy, disgusting, earth- 
born worm rises on airy wings and soars aloft. It 
no longer feeds on garbage, but sips nectar from 
every opening flower. What a change! Is it indeed 
the same crawling caterpillar? It is; and yet how 
changed! With what body has it risen! In what 
brilliant colors does it shine! The same, and yet 
not the same. 

Thus it will be in the resurrection. We are sown 
in dishonor, we shall be raised in glory; we are sown 
in weakness, we shall be raised in power. Thus it is 
that God hath made ministers of winged insects, which 
come trooping in spring-time, like so many angels 
clad in robes of beauty to proclaim the glory of God 
and the resurrection of man. 

There are also analogies in the spiritual world which, 



The Resurrection, 145 



properly understood, teacli the doctrine of the resur- 
rection of the dead. Regeneration is a moral resur- 
rection. The soul is raised from the death of sin to the 
life of God in Christ. The man once dead in tres- 
passes and sins is made alive by the quickening pow- 
er of the Holy Ghost. He wakes up in the Divine 
likeness. It is indeed a resurrection! He has a new 
heart. New emotions, sweet sympathies, high aspira- 
tions, noble resolves, holy joys cause him to feel that 
a change from darkness to light, from death to life, 
from flesh to spirit has been wrought in his inner 
nature. He was dead, but is alive again; was lost, 
but is found. He breathes a new atmosphere, moves 
on a higher plane, and rejoices with renewed hopes. 
Old things have passed away, and all things have be- 
come new. He has been taken from the grave of sin, 
and with his grave-clothes removed he is sitting 
clothed and in his right mind. In the conversion of 
every sinner the God of grace teaches us that the 
resurrection is not a myth, but a glorious reality. To 
these voices of the God of nature and the God of grace 
revelation gives a hearty and harmonious response. 
"Now that the dead are raised, even Moses showed 
at the bush, w^hen he calleth the Lord the God of 
Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. 
For he is not a God of the dead, but of the living." 
Sad are the words of Jesus to the Sadducees when 
they were endeavoring to show the absurdity of the 
resurrection. The Master ever proclaimed boldly the 
truth of the resurrection, but in the passage quoted 
he refers to Moses as admitted authority among Sad- 
ducees, and by that authority established his doctrine 
and silenced their cavilings. Job proclaims the same 
10 



146 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

truth with language at once startling, original, and 
sublime: *' I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that 
he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and 
though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in 
my flesh shall I see God."^ Isaiah, in his own beauti- 
ful and poetic style, declares: "Thy dead men shall 
live; together with my dead body shall they arise. 
Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust: for thy dew 
is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out the 
dead." Daniel proclaims: "And many of them that 
sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to ev- 
erlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting con- 
tempt." InHoseaweread: "I will ransom them from 
the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death." 
Paul says: "Why should it be thought a thing in- 
credible with you, that God should raise the dead?" 
And Jesus, in our text, proclaims: "I am the resur- 
rection and the life." It is, then, in this passage that 
he bases the whole doctrine of the resurrection upon 
the fact of his resurrection. By man came death; 
and by man came the resurrection of the dead. As 
in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made 
alive. Christ is risen, and become the first-fruits of 
them that slept. 

Christ's risen body was the same and yet not the same 
in which he suffered. The suffering body was mor- 
tal ; the resurrection body is immortal. It was sown in 
dishonor, it is raised in glory. And yet it was so 
identical with the natural body as not only to impart 
the consciousness of identity to the Saviour, but it 
was duly recognized by his disciples. It would be no 
resurrection if there were no identity ; and the resur- 
rection would be without value if it brought back all 



The Resurrection. 147 



the infirmities of the mortal body. The flesh and 
blood are transformed in the resurrection. The nat- 
ural body shall be a spiritual body, and mortality 
shall be swallowed up of life. We shall be like him, 
for we shall see him as he is. In the resurrection we 
shall know ourselves and shall know each other — just 
as Jesus knew himself and w^as known by his disci- 
ples. We may not fathom all the mysteries of the 
resurrection; but this must neither weaken the Chris- 
tian's faith nor lessen his joy. The resurrection of 
Christ is an established fact, and established by the 
strongest possible evidence. It cannot be disproved. , 
Such testimony was never before adduced to establish 
a miracle. If Christ did not rise from the dead, then 
no reliance can be placed on human testimony. For 
here we have witnesses numerous, independent, capa- 
ble, honest, unselfish to such an extent as to testify 
to their own injury. If they cannot be believed none 
can. If, then, the resurrection of Christ is an estab- 
lished fact, our own resurrection is assured. If you 
ask, With what body do they come? I answer, With 
the same body, only made like Christ's glorious body. 
Of the resurrection of Christ the Easter Sabbath is 
a perpetual monument, and of our resurrection it is 
a glorious prophecy. Monumental, it proclaims Christ 
the resurrection and the life; prophetic, it inspires 
his followers wifh the highest hopes and holiest rapt- 
ures. E. 



XVII. 
JACOB'S WELL: 

A COMMUNION SERMON. 



"Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep" 
(John iv. 11.) 

HERE is a sinner looking at the visible, and won- 
dering at the words of a stranger. Here is the 
Saviour looking through the visible, and trying to 
lead her to apprehend the invisible. This old well 
had refreshed the thirsty and wayworn of the centu- 
ries, and now becomes type of that " Living Water " 
which is to satisfy and make glad through the ages 
to come. 

1. Obstacles to sight are aids to faith. This famous 
well was more than a hundred feet deep, with only 
a few feet of water. Supposing the stranger to refer 
to this water, the woman argued the impossibility 
because of the depth. " Thou hast nothing to draw 
with, and the well is deep." She could not see (what 
unbelief requires) the processes and the connections; 
how he was to obtain that water, which was a hun- 
dred feet down in the earth, with neither bucket to 
dip nor cord to draw. She must have a basis for her 
faith laid in mechanics. This is the mistake of 
many — putting the faith-life down in the sphere of 
mechanics and on the plane of science and the visi- 
ble, and then asking, "How can these things be?" 

We want to see the how of every thing we ask of 
(148) 



Jacob's Well 149 



God. If we can get mecliaiiical reckonings — the 
depth o£ the well, the length of the cord, and the 
soundness of the bucket — then we determine what to 
believe about getting the wat^er. Thus we set our 
faith, as we would a trap, in the mechanics of the 
thing; and when we can't see the mechanism we 
don't have the faith. 

Asking for the restoration of a sick loved one, we 
think of the nature of the disease and the skill of 
the physician; asking for revival, we think of the 
condition of the Church and the power of the preach- 
er; and if asking for rain, we think of the phase of 
the moon and the state of the atmosphere. Too 
much of our faith is in our eyes and ears and hands. 
When we go to God for blessing we want something 
to carry in our hands, as the Oriental would carry 
his bucket and rope; and if we have nothing, then 
we stand and doubt and say, "I have nothing to 
draw with, and the well is deep." 

2. The deepness is the aid to true faith. That which 
staggers mechanical faith supports a true faith. 
True faith only wants to know that " the well is 
deep;" that it will not strike bottom." Faith deals 
in deep things, and doesn't ask about the how, Moses 
marches Israel down between the hills and to the 
Eed Sea banks, and doesn't ask how they are to cross. 
Abraham lays Isaac upon the altar and lifts the steel 
to slay him, and doesn't ask how he is to be delivered. 
Elijah stands on Carmel, in the face of six hundred 
priests, and has the twelve barrels of water poured 
over his altar, and doesn't ask how it is to be fired. 

All that faith, genuine faith, wishes to know is that 
there is a well-fountain, and that it is deep— too deep 



150 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

for mechanical measurement by feet and inches; too 
deep to be sounded by visible cords ; too deep for ex- 
haustion; deep enough to meet the wants and slake 
the soul-thirst of humanity. 

3. We are noiv at the ivell. This sacrament spread 
before us is a well-fountain, and it is deep. ■' There 
is a spring of fresh-water in the Atlantic Ocean, off 
the Matanzas Inlet and three miles from shore. It 
is always in commotion, and it covers half an acre of 
space. The ocean there is thirty-six feet in depth, 
but this spring is fathomless." This sacrauient is the 
fresh-water fountain, the Matanzas well-spring in the 
ocean of life; and it is fathomless — ten thousand 
cords can never sound it. Like the Matanzas fount- 
ain, it is deeper than the ocean-bed. Tie all your 
griefs and disappointments and distresses together 
and sink them here, and it is but the child's effort to 
sound tlie sea. How blessed, when voyage-worn, sea- 
sick, and athirst, to cast anchor hard by this Matan- 
zas fountain and drink to the comfort of the soul! 
Let every heavy, hurting heart sink its sorrows here 
this morning, and drink, and take courage for the 
future voyage. 

4. Life is a swrface-ocean. The atonement is the 
great ocean beneath the ocean, and while the shallow 
life-ocean is rock-reefed, storm-sv/ept, and billow- 
beaten, the great atonement-ocean underlies it, and 
its living waters burst their way up aud through the 
life-ocean, and the voyagers come ever and anon to 
the Matanzas fountains. We are anchored this hour 
at one of these fountains, as it breaks through the 
surface of things in this stormy life. We reach these 
fountains at the opening Sabbath of each month. 



Jacob's Well 151 



We have had a month of rough sailing, with some 
experiences, like the sea-water, too salt to be palata- 
ble or pleasant. But to-day we rest. Like Israel un- 
der the palms and by the wells of Elim, we rest and 
take of " living water." Here we come into that fel- 
lowship that includes the Church of the first-born. 

5. Hers were ivorcls of doubt. " Thou hast nothing 
to draw with." Jesus said: "If thou hadst known 
who it is that asketh drink of thee, thou wouldest have 
asked of him." Ah, if we could always know with 
whom we are talking! When we are in controversy 
with misfortune, trial, or loss, if we only knew who 
it is speaking with us through these things, then 
would we cease to argue and begin to ask, " If thou 
hadst known, thou wouldest have asked," and not ar- 
gued. That woman talked to him of well, cord, and 
bucket because she did not knov/ him. But when 
she knew him but a little she forgot her own pitcher 
and went to tell her friends of him as the Christ. 
How it lifts us out of the lower and the doubtful 
when w^e find that God is speaking with us! A 
thousand times we have fought with what we thought 
was ill fate, and have been impatient and fretful and 
rebellious when, had we known who it was in contro- 
versy with us, we had been praying; and, like this 
woman, forgetting the world's pitchers and cords and 
buckets, we had risen to communion with him and 
hastened to tell others of the Messiah. 

6. She found Christ unawares, A thousand times, 
it may be, she had trod the path to that old well. 
The presence of weary footmen there was no new 
thing. Little thought she of finding God at the well 
that day; still Jess would she think that the dusty 



152 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

stranger were he. How God lets us find him some- 
times when least we look! Reading an old, familiar 
chapter — have read it a hundred times — suddenly 
there is light, and we see God in the word, and hear 
him say, ''I that speak with thee am he." A friend 
comes; we talk together of Christ; as heart responds 
to heart we become conscious of a third presence, 
and though we do not speak to him we grow silent, 
and our eyes grow dewy while he speaks to us in 
language that causes " our hearts to burn within us." 
Walking the pavement, where we have passed for 
years; in the place of business, where we have been 
daily — suddenly there is a sense of an unseen pres- 
ence, and we realize that God is in that place. How 
blessed are the common places of life when we know 
the presence and hear the voice of the "Son of 
man!" 

7. Empty hands are the hands to place upon the 
well-sweep of grace. You could not handle the well- 
sweep with the "old oaken bucket" at your child- 
hood home when your hands were full of other things. 
You laid down what you had in your hands and took 
hold on the old sweep empty-handed. So you draw 
best now from the "wells of salvation" when you 
come empty-handed. " Blessed are the poor in spir- 
it." He succeeds who comes saying: "In my hands 
no price I bring." Let a man come to the well of life 
wath his rope of self-righteousness or self -worthiness 
or good works, and he will find the well too deep. If 
he expect to reach the "living water" with all his 
self-excellences linked together, no drop from that 
well shall ever pass his lips; but whoso cometh with 
simple faith shall find access — " For the just shall 



JacoVs Well 153 



live by faith," " walk by faith," breathe by faith, and 
draw and drink from " salvation's wells " by faith. 

We stand now by this sacramental well, deep as 
divine love, from which the "sacramental hosts" 
have drank; and though we are empty-handed and 
have nothing with which to draw, yet we shall drink, 
because we are not in controversy with him; but are 
here to " ask," and he is here to ''give us of that liv- 
ing water, of which if a man. drink he shall never 
thirst." M. . 



XVIII. 
THE WORK MUST GO ON, 



" I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down : why 
should the work cease?" (Neh. vi. 3.) 

TO Nehemiah a great work had been committed. 
It was nothing less than the rebuilding of the 
walls of Jerusalem. The work was both difficult and 
dangerous. The people were both poor and discour- 
aged. The temptations to desist were numerous and 
strong. Nehemiah remained firm to his purpose, 
and trusted in the great and " terrible '' God to whom 
he prayed day and night. With a sword and a trowel 
he kept at his work; *Vith one of his hands wrought 
in the w^ork, and with the other hand held a weapon." 
The work was great and large; the laborers were sep- 
arated upon the wall one far from the other; each one 
slept in his clothes, so as to be ready either to work 
or to fight. Then came his powerful enemies, and 
asked Nehemiah to come down and meet with them 
in some one of the villages in the plain of Ono. This 
was the reply: "I am doing a great work, so that I 
cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst 
I leave it, and come down to you? " 

We believe that the difficulty and danger of re- 
building the walls is a type of the danger and diffi- 
culty of doing the work of Christ in building of his 
Church. It is true that the type is material while 
the antetype is spiritual — the former relates to visi- 
(154) 



The Work Must Go On. 155 

ble enemies, and the latter to invisible and spiritual 
foes. This difference is almost universal. In this 
discussion we note the great work to which all Chris- 
tians are called. It was a great work to build up the 
fallen walls of Jerusalem, but it is a greater one to 
build up the Church of God, to advance the cause of 
the Redeemer, to save souls from death, and to hide 
a multitude of sins. 

It is great in that it involves the greatest princi- 
ples that ever controlled human action. To save 
man put in exercise the highest attributes of the De- 
ity and called up all the highest princij)les of the 
Divine Government. 

'Twas great to speak the world from naught ; 
Twas greater to redeem. 

Justice and mercy were both active in man's redemp- 
tion. V/isdom and power combined and threv/ a halo 
of glory around this grandest work of the great and 
terrible God. But it is not to the work of God, but 
to that performed by man that our iext has reference. 
It is great in that its ends are the greatest that can 
possibly be conceived by human intelligence. These 
ends are all to make a man wiser and better here and 
to prepare him for eternal happiness in the world to 
come. Surely it is a great work to turn man from 
sin to holiness, from Satan to God, from hell to 
heaven. It is a great work to lift man from the filth 
and mire of sin to the joys and bliss of the children 
of God. To enlighten the mind is indeed a great and 
noble work, but it is much greater to save a soul from 
the worm that never dies and from the fires that are 
never quenched; for at the last, consider the work of 
the individual Christian in whatever light you will, 



156 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

it resolves itself into this: It is to save his own soul 
and, at the same time, help to save the souls of oth- 
ers. This is the sum and substance of all Christian 
labor. If a work of benevolence is discharged, it is 
always hoped that the charity, while it relieves the 
body, may be the means of saving the soul. The sal- 
vation of the soul is the Alpha and Omega, the begin- 
ning and the end, of all Christian endeavor, whether 
organized or individual, whether it is seen in the 
building of a church, the erection of a hospital, the 
establishment of an orphan asylum, or in teaching an 
infant class in a Sunday-school. 

It is, then, a great work, whether it is considered 
in reference to time or to eternity, to the soul's value 
or the soul's destiny, to the work itself or to its de- 
sign or its final result. 

The manner of performing the work by Nehemiah 
may also be regarded as typical. He fought and 
worked. He had a sword on his side, with a weapon 
in one hand and a trowel in the other. It was a 
double work — a work of resistance and of progress. 
He resisted all overtures to desist, and went forward 
with his work in spite of all opposition and of all in- 
ducements to quit. That is exactly the way for a 
Christian to work. He must be brave. He must 
stand firm and strong against all the attacks of the 
euemy. Neither threats on the one hand nor flattery 
on the other must lessen his ardor or abate his ef- 
forts. Brave as a lion, courageous as the tiger, and 
yet truthful as a saint, he must work on and work 
ever until, released from duty, he receives his reward. 
Unflinching firmness must characterize all workers 
for Christ No weakness must show itself in the 



The Work Must Go On, 157 

character of one who wears the badge of the Christian. 
Firmer than the mountain oak which has resisted the 
storms of a century, and stronger than the barriers 
which have stood for thousands of years unmoved by 
the dashing waves of old ocean, should the Christian 
worker stand against all the rushing tides of iniquity 
which try his strength or assait his lofty principles. 

The Christian worker must be constant. He must 
not allow the work to cease. He must not come 
down from it, but must stay on the walls by day and 
night, always ready for the great and good work com- 
mitted to his hands. The w^ork must not stop. Ne- 
hemiah says that in rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem 
the workmen did not put off their clothes except for 
the washing, so intent were they upon their work. 
In business or at leisure, at home or abroad, alone or 
in company, the Christian must carry on his work. 
Some seem to think that the work of the Lord must 
be done only on the Sabbath. This is far from the 
truth. No man must have a business which does not 
harmonize with Christian duty. So to business 
unite God's service. Be instant in season and out 
of season.^ Bring your whole worldly business into 
close connection with the work of the Lord. Make 
God your partner; let him have control, supreme 
control in every transaction. Then you can serve 
him in selling goods, in attending a patient, in de- 
fending a client, in shoving the plane, in driving the 
wagon, or in following the plow; you can serve him 
while plying the busy needle, running the machine, 
or in attending to any of the cares of house-keeping. 
God should be served whether you sweep the house, 
wash the clothes, cook the food, or tend the babe. 



158 Arrotvs from Two Quivers. 

This work for Christ implies thorough and unself- 
ish consecration. Consecrate yourselves now and 
forever to God and his holy service. Lay all upon 
God's altar; let nothing be kept back. Time and 
talents, home and loved ones, v/ith self and all its be- 
longings, must be included in the one act of consecra- 
tion. The sword and the trowel must be surrendered 
to him and used only in his service. God wants no 
divided service; you cannot serve God and mammon^ 
Fidelity to every principle of right, to God and man, 
for all time, is essential to acceptable work for the 
Master. Fidelity to the sword and to the trowel must 
be engraved on the conscience and be embodied in 
the whole life. Fidelity must glow in the feelings, 
determine in the will, and shine like the sun in the 
whole life. It must wave on the banner, which, still 
high advanced, floats above the clouds, and has fidel- 
ity shining on its ample folds. It is the motto of the 
good man, and adds to the attractiveness of youth and 
gives dignity to old age: With fidelity governing 
both husband and wife marriage cannot be a failure, 
and love is the very vestibule of heaven. It meets 
responsibility, pays honest debts, complies with sa- 
cred promises, secures confidence in business, honors 
God in all things, and is the richest benediction to 
all within the range of its godlike influence. It 
does not parley with the tempter; it resists the devil, 
and he flees. It says Viork, and work is done. It 
commands, Fight the good fight of faith, and the 
fight is fought to the end and to complete victory. 

All God's people should be united in this good 
work. Ephraim shall not envy Judah, and Judah 
shall' not envy Ephraim. Let there be no strife be- 



The Work Must Go On. 159 



tween me and thee, and between my herdsmen and 
thy herdsmen, for we be brethren. Yes, all Chris- 
tians are brethren, and strife is ruinous to the Lord's 
work. We are as different corps in the same army. 
A strife between us is as injurious to our holy cause 
as contention between two companies in the same reg- 
iment. United we stand. Let all the various branch- 
es of the Church of Christ be united as one man, to 
advance his cause and bring all sinners to his feet, 
and the world would be shaken as by a great spirit- 
ual earthquake. A new era would dawn. Ethiopia 
would stretch forth its hands to God; the isles would 
know his love; the desert would rejoice; Sahara would 
bloom; the mountains would break forth into song, 
and all the trees of the forest would clap their hands. 

In union is strength and, more than that, in union 
is success— is victory, complete and eternal. If to- 
day all denominations of Christians could unite to 
oppose sin, to advance holiness, to glorify Christ, and 
to save sinners, a new light as bright as Bethlehem's 
Star would shine, and the cross of Christ would con- 
trol the world. 

Nehemiah united the scattered, impoverished, dis- 
couraged people of God, and, in spite of Sanballat 
and Tobiah and Geshem and all their adherents, the 
work was done, and Jerusalem arose from the dust 
like a bride adorned for her husband. Let us be 
united, brethren beloved, and then we shall see our 
spiritual Jerusalem arise from the dust and become 
the joy and praise of all the earth. 

Then, we must work with a will. Nehemiah says 
of his people: The people had a mind to work. To 
that fact he largely ascribes their success. We must 



160 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

not be laggards. There must be no complainers. It 
is the grandest work that ever employed God or an- 
gels. Then, let the people have a mind to work; let 
there be no dismay. Go with a warm heart and a 
burning zeal; with a will as inflexible as right, as 
immutable as truth, and as fixed as the stars of heav- 
en; go forward until you shall come forth shouting, 
Grace, grace, unto it. Let nothing dishearten you, 
nothing weaken your purpose, or quench the celestial 
flame that burns in your bosom. Tour cause is good, 
your purpose noble, your courage is heroic, and your 
guide and support is the great and good God. Then, 
have a mind to the work, and all the vile opposition 
of men or devils will be as toy pop-guns employed to 
beat down the fortress of Gibraltar. Up, and on to 
the completion of the grandest work ever entrusted 
to angels or to men! 

Then, all this work must be accompanied by prayer. 
So was it with Nehemiah. His prayers, as recorded 
by himself, flame with indignation against his ene- 
mies and are full of faith in the " great and terrible 
God." It is God's work. The city is his; the walls 
are his; the people are his. He prays: "Hear, O our 
God; for we are despised: and turn their reproach 
upon their own head. ... So built we the wall." So 
we must pray. Answer derision with prayer. Oppose 
satire, sophism, passion, ignorance, prejudice, all, 
with humble, earnest prayer, and your work shall be 
done, and well done, and then God shall have all 
the praise. 

No Christian can afford to do any work upon which 
he cannot pray for the blessing of God. Ask the 
blessing of God upon all your business, provided that 



The Work Must Go On. 161 

business is legitimate and perfectly honest; but es- 
pecially should you pray that God may bless every 
seed that you sow and every work that you perform 
to build up his cause and bless the souls of others. 
Ask, and ye shall receive. Pray with holy fervor 
and with undoubting trust; pray with the assurance 
that God will bless you every time you say a word or 
perform an act for the sake of the true and the good. 

Persevere unto the end; stand by your work until 
called from work to rest. Not only stand, but do; 
do with all your might. Strike to the death of wrong 
and for the growth of all that is pure and good, and 
strike till he shall say. It is enough; come up higher. 

Do all your work with implicit and unceasing faith. 
Trust in the Lord; claim his promises; lean upon 
him with perfect assurance that he will bear you up 
in his hands and carry you on his bosom. Palter 
not; doubt not; fail not. He will be your God, and 
you shall be his child. Do duty, and leave all in the 
hands of Him who doeth all things well. 

After your labor rest will be so sweet; 
After the fight victory will be complete. 
Work on, fight on, till the shout shall rise, 
And angels shall welcome you high in the skies. 

K 

11 



XIX. 

THE WATER WAIF. 



"And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife 
a daughter of Levi. And the woman conceived, and bare a son : 
and when she saw him that he was a goodly child, she hid him 
three months. And when she could not longer hide him, she 
took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and 
with pitch, and put the child therein ; and she laid it in the 
flags by the river's brink. And his sister stood afar off, to wit 
what would be done to him. And the daughter of Pharaoh came 
down to wash herself at the river ; and her maidens walked along 
by the river's side : and when she saw the ark among the flags, 
she sent her maid to fetch it. And when she had opened it, she 
saw the child : and, behold, the babe wept. And she had com- 
passion on him, and said. This is one of the Hebrews' children. 
Then said his sister to Pharaoh's daughter. Shall I go and call to 
thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the 
child for thee ? And Pharaoh's daughter said to her. Go. And 
the maid went and called the child's mother. And Pharaoh's 
daughter said unto her. Take this child away, and nurse it for 
me, and I will give thee thy wages. And the woman took the 
child, and nursed it. And the child grew, and she brought him 
unto Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son. And she 
called his name Moses : and she said, Because I drew him out 
of the water." (Exodus ii. 1-10.) 

THEEE is a novel interest in the history of every 
babe. Each is born a king or queen in the home, 
and rules supreme for a season. Many of us \vere more 
distinguished as babes than ever afterward. Here is 
a babe that has made history enough at the age of 
twelve weeks to thrill the world. And we have but 
(162) 



The Water Waif, 163 



to note this baby biography to see how wonderfully 
God's providence moves along the lines of life's com- 
mon affairs, meeting and watching our faith and effort. 

1. We must have faith as a basis of action. And God 
always gives ground for confidence and trust. He in- 
tended to save this babe from the bloody edict of the 
king, and to do it through the agency of its mother. 
But how is she to know this? What sign shall she 
have of God's intention? He puts the sign in the 
face of the babe — a fairness and beauty almost divine. 
Tradition says: " His beauty was such that passers-by 
would stop and linger to look, and workmen w^ould 
leave their work to come and steal a glance at the won- 
derful babe." 

God can write his designs anywhere. He hinted 
his design in the beauty of the infant Moses, in the 
early strength of Samson, in the early prowess of 
David, and in the early piety of Samuel. And if God 
write his favor on the face of a child, you may expect 
the mother to read it. Other things may go unno- 
ticed and unread, but that which is stamped upon the 
face of the babe the mother's eye will detect. Moses's 
mother read the divine intention when she " saw that 
he was a goodly child; " and when she saw this, " she 
hid him three months." Not that she would have 
consented to his destruction had he not been thus 
comely, but she would have had no hope or inspiration 
to try to save him from the king's decree. She saw in 
his face the touch of God, that which kindled her faith 
and inspired her hope of saving him. 

Many a poor mother since that has detected prom- 
ise enough in the face of her own babe to save her 
from despair. 



164 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

2. There must he respo7ise to Divine intimation. God's 
hints are hints to watchfuhiess and work; hints to do 
something. So the mother of Moses understood it, 
and proceeded at once to hide the babe. It may have 
been, perhaps was, at the risk of her own life and those 
of the household; but she had seen God's intention 
in the face of the child, and was ready for the risk. 
Indeed, there is no risk where God leads. Though 
we collide with kings' decrees there is no harm to re- 
sult. 

3. She combines sagacity ivith faith. And you know 
what a woman's wit is when the life of her child is 
involved. Observe, she did all the planning; no men- 
tion of the husband and father in the whole transac- 
tion. " So she hid him three months," as long as she 
could. No blind and inactive dependence upon God 
to keep him concealed, and to do what she could do her- 
self. Butnovf she can hide him no longer, what must 
be done? What does she do? Let the executioners 
come and find him, and leave it to God to work a 
miracle to save him? Not until she has done all she 
can for his further preservation. " So she took for 
him an ark of bulrushes." She made a basket — made 
it herself. And do you not suppose there was pains- 
taking with that piece of wicker-work? She trusted 
no other, but made it with her own hands, " and daubed 
it with slime and with pitch." I dare say there was not 
a defective reed in that basket; and the cement was 
well worked and closely put in. That was one bas- 
ket not "made to sell." Not much chance for leak- 
ing when she had finished it. The baby sailor 
had, at least, a water-proof boat; and when complete, 
she fixed a lid upon it in such manner that the little 



The Water Waif. 165 



seaman would neither rock nor struggle out of his 
boat. And this lid had to be removed by some effort 
before the princess who found him could get sight of 
his face. 

4 She alloivs no one to come hetiveen her and God. All 
is now ready; will she not call the babe's father that 
he, with stronger arms, may carry the little one away? 
Not so. She admits no one between her and the un- 
seen hand. 

Had Amram started with the basket, half -scared 
and with awkward and suspicious movement, he would 
have been detected. It required the noiseless gliding, 
the almost spirit-like movement of a woman and a 
mother to perform this dangerous feat. What would 
a man do on such an enterprise? A creature made 
up principally of awkwardness and fuss, a man can- 
not walk across a sick-room or shut a door without 
jarring the entire building. So the Book tells us that 
she took the basket herself and " carried it to the 
river-side." 

"A kind man was gathering up the poor children in 
the vicinity of the ^ Five Points,' in the city of New 
York, and was carrying them out to the West and pro- 
curing homes for them. A number had been found 
and arrangement was made to leave with them on a 
certain morning. The children were brought to the 
appointed place the previous night. Among them 
came a poor woman with her child, and asked to be 
allowed to undress the little one and put it to sleep, 
and then to sit by it through the night that she might 
have the privilege of taking it up and dressing it for 
the last time before it was taken away." 

Something of this feeling, I dare say, was in the 



166 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

heart of Moses's mother as she went to the Nile-brink 
to leave her babe upon the waters. But she did it 
"by faith." Faith can carry a heavy heart and an 
awful burden, and yet walk steadily. She has 
done all; she is now at her extremity; she has reached 
out into the darkness before her as far as she can, 
and just there she met God. As she reached that 
precious basket out upon the waters it w^as as if she 
felt God's finger-tips touch hers; and she knew that 
as it passed from hers it slipped into that unseen 
hand that controls the waters and the waves. But 
for this she would have staid there and died with her 
babe. No mother could thus leave her child and go 
back to her home except God were with her. But she 
went silently away. No outcry — not so much as a 
moan or sigh. Beautiful lesson ! Do all you can, go 
as far as you can. Then leave all to God, and walk 
steadily and cheerfully on. 

2. How God meets such faith and work. Not al- 
ways by miraculous intervention, but most frequently 
by simply ordering the commoi^-place things of ev- 
ery-day life. The princess and maids came walking 
down by the river-side. She sees the ark and sends 
her maid to fetch it. God is along with that com- 
pany in that stroll by the river. " The king's heart 
is in the hand of the Lord," and so were the eyes of 
that princess. And God directed her eyes when they 
fell on that bulrush basket. 

And when it was brought and opened, there was 
the babe in the basket. God was in that basket, too; 
and he made the babe cry just at that time. He is 
in the weeping of a babe. He was in the heart of 
the princess and touched her womanly sympathy, 



The Water Waif. 167 



and I suspect she cried also. " And she said, This is 
one of the Hebrews' children." Child of one of the 
poor slaves in my father's br4ck-yards. Nothing un- 
common about this. Nothing that seems miraculous 
here. All is simple and natural as life, while God's 
providence, like a thread of silver, is running through 
the entire story, fastening one thing to another to 
complete the design. 

3. No bungling here. He sends the right one always, 
and at the right time. There might have come a 
thousand other noble women along by that river, and 
found that babe, and cried over it, and felt sympa- 
thy for it, and not one of the number could have 
saved it. But the king's daughter, the only woman 
in the realm who had power to save the little waif, 
she comes, and God moves her heart for the child's 
rescue. 

But yonder stands another member of the provi- 
dential circle — a little lass, and her name is Miriam. 
She has been watching from afar to see what would 
become of her baby brother. God has something to 
do with her, and something for her to do. There is a 
niche for the children in the frame- work of providence. 

Miriam comes up, as if surprised, to see what has 
been found. The princess says: "It is a child of the 
Hebrews." Then said the little girl: " Shall I go and 
call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she 
may nurse the child for thee? " And she bade her 
go. And she went and called the child's mother; 
and I should not wonder if she was in prayer when 
Miriam came to call her. Had your child been on 
the waters, 'mid the flags and the crocodiles, you 
would have been in prayer. But why is she called? 



168 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

To hear that the babe is drowned, or devoured by 
the river monsters? That it has been found and or- 
der given to destroy it? Not so, but to hear that it 
lives, is well, is found by the king's daughter, loved 
by her, and she desires you to take him and nurse 
him for her. Moses was one babe who got the right 
nurse. No woman on earth would have cared for 
him as tenderly as the one whom Miriam called. 

4. The return of the trust, "Pharaoh's daughter 
said unto her. Take the child and nurse it for me, 
and I will give thee thy wages." Here God returns 
the reward of her trust. As if he had said: **Tou 
took care of the babe as long as you could, and when 
you could keep him no longer you came and handed 
him out to me on the Nile. So I have had charge of 
the wicker-boat and its treasure; have preserved it 
from all harm, and I now return it in better condi- 
tion than when I took it from your hand. You 
gave him to me under the edict of death. I return 
him free from that edict. I took him, the child of a 
persecuted Hebrew. I return him under the king's 
protection, the adopted of his own daughter. No 
longer obscure; no longer a fugitive and flying from 
death." Again, **You have nursed him for noth- 
ing from the day of his birth. Now, I pay you the 
wages of a princess to nurse your own child." If 
there was ever improvement made on a case of trust, 
that was the case. 

5. The lessons. They are very plain and simple. 
That old basket is full of gospel. Some old things 
about the home call up divers and tender memories; 
but this old Hebrew basket has more than a mere 
touching story. It has living lessons for life. 



The Water Waif. 169 

First It teaches that God's providence plays, like 
invisible electric streams, along the lines of daily 
life. We are to remember that each day, with its 
work, is incorporate with the divine and the unseen. 
Men think God has little to do with them except on 
Sundays. He has less to do with men on Sunday 
than any other day. Bearing in mind that God has 
part with us in each day, will make the experience 
of each day, in some sense, sacramental. 

Second, We are to do full duty, and leav^e nothing 
for providence to do that we can do for ourselves. 
Some people live as if they expected providence to 
do all. But providence is never "to let" in this 
manner. Providence does not serve as Bridget or 
Barney, while we nap and do nothing. 

Here has been sad mistake. Leaving all to provi- 
dence, and expecting providence to do what was 
never promised nor intended. Providence made us 
to help ourselves, and to help him. Eyes, hands, 
feet, brain, all the powers are given to meet our own 
demands and do his work, and when these are ex- 
hausted, can do no more, then his providence is 
bound to come to our aid. His is a supplemental 
work, " a help in time of need." 

Finally. We note the j)ayment Faith investments 
always pay. God always improves the stock placed 
in his hands. Insurance companies, land improve- 
ment companies, and trust companies often depre- 
ciate and collapse. But I have never known any- 
thing to depreciate under the management of the 
living God. Moses went into that basket a slave; 
he came out a prince. He went in under sentence; 
he came out the heir of freedom. 



170 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

Do all you can to save your children; and when 
you have done all, then trust them over to God, who 
will " keep them by his power." And as He paid the 
mother of Moses to nurse her own child, so will he 
pay you, in life's later years, for your care and toil 
in training your children for Him. "Train them 
for Mcy and I will give thee thy wages." 

You shall see them, when you are in life's evening, 
princes and princesses in the household of God. 
And as the parents of Moses saw their son the 
adopted of royalty, may you, as parents, rejoice in 
the adoption of your children into the family of the 
living God, M. 



XX. 

THE WHEELS IN EZEKIEL'S VISION. 



" Now as I beheld the living creatures, behold one wheel up- 
on the earth by the living creatures, with his four faces. The 
appearance of the wheels and their work was like unto the 
color of a beryl : and they four had one likeness ; and their ap- 
pearance and their work w^as as it were a wheel in the middle 
of a wheel. When they went, they went upon their four sides; 
and they turned not when they went. As for their rings, they 
were so high that they were dreadful ; and their rings were 
full of eyes round about them four." (Ezekiel i. 15-18.) 

'W T'Ei have chosen this vision of the great prophet 
V V Ezekiel that we may be the better able to il- 
Instiate the providence of God. The atheist tells ns, 
"There is no God," and of course no providence. 
According to the theory of atheism there is an end- 
less succession of cause and effect, but no great 
guiding mind to determine result. All things are 
bound fast in fate. His views are as destitute of 
light and comfort as they are contrary to reason and 
oi^posed to common sense. 

Superstition recognizes Providence only in the 
marvelous. Frightened by the sweep of the cyclone, 
the flash of the lightning, the roar of the thunder, 
the tread of the earthquake, the desolation wrought 
by the mysterious plague, it sees a terrible Provi- 
dence in these displays, which seem to be the off- 
spring of the wrath of some imaginary deity. But it 
sees no hand lifting the curtains of night and caus- 

(171) 



172 Arrows from Two Quivers, 



ing the light of the morning to breat over land and 
sea ; no providence in the gentle shower or sparkling 
dew, in the blooming lily or sweet-scented rose, in 
heaven or earth, unless disturbed by some extraordi- 
nary exhibition of Divine power. 

The agnostic knows nothing, and hence believes 
nothing. He gropes in darkness, bewildered by his 
own ignorance, and walks neither by sight nor by 
faith. The fact is, he does not walk at all, but, like 
the blind cyclops in his cavern, he gropes in dark- 
ness unutterable and impenetrable. 

The Christian sees God in all things and prov- 
idence everywhere, in the dark as in the light, in the 
common as in the extraordinary, in the calm as in 
the storm, in the falling sparrow as in the revolving 
world. 

Atheism would put out the sun and be forever in- 
closed in impenetrable darkness. Superstition would 
let the sun remain extinguished, and would light up 
the firmanent with flaming meteors or blazing com- 
ets. Agnosticism would close the eyes to all light, 
whether coming in effulgence from the glorious king 
of day or in sudden and evanescent flashes from a 
shower of meteors or the trail of a comet. 

Christianity would let all lights shine, and would 
look with open eyes and trusting faith upon all the 
displays of power, wisdom, and goodness as evincing 
the attributes of God and his presence in all things. 
Possibly in no other passage of the Bible is there 
such a presentation of Providence as in this vision, 
which we will now attempt to analyze. 

1. The wheels are on the earth, showing that God 
extends his providence to this little planet. He 



The Wheels in EzeUeVs Vision. 173 

does not confine himself or liis providence to vast 
and distant worlds, or to heaven and its inhabitants. 
He is watching the earth and causing it to revolve 
in its orbit with a regularity at once perfect and as- 
l^onishing — a regularity which has undergone no 
change for thousands of years. 

2. The appearance of the wheels and their work 
was as the color of a beryl. Beryl was a precious 
stone of a deep sea-green color, and is possibly taken 
here for the sea itself. Some commentators would 
so translate the Hebrew. But whether the word be 
translated 'the sea or the beryl representing the sea, 
the meaning is the same. The color is such as to 
prevent a clear transparent view. You cannot see to 
the depths of the sea. You know not what may be 
concealed beneath the waves. So it is with Provi- 
dence. It is mysterious. No human eye has ever 
yet penetrated to its dark, mysterious depths. Life 
is a mystery, and death is a mystery. Some lives 
are as bright as the smooth flow of a crystal stream 
sparkling in the summer sunshine, while others are 
as dark and sunless as the gloomy shades of the fa- 
bled Erebus. One path is sown with thorns, another 
with flowers. One sails upon the sea without a rip- 
ple upon its calm surface, and another is dashed by 
storms from the moment his boat is launched until 
he makes the landing on the other shore, or is 
wrecked in mid ocean. And still another is some- 
times in calms and then in storms, sometimes sailing 
beneath a clear sky and then beneath dark and threat- 
ening clouds. One nation is born amid perils, and 
pursues a long career of honor and prosperity; an- 
other begins its life beneath a cloudless sky and 



174 Arrows from Two Quivers.^ 

closes it before the sun sets amid scenes of disaster 
and blood. One family is not distubred by the pres- 
ence of death for full half a century, and another 
loses member after member — each one exciting the 
liveliest hopes just to be crushed by the last silent 
messenger. A bright and promising boy, with vig- 
orous nerve and strong muscle, just budding into a 
noble young mankind, is borne by sorrowing friends 
to an untimely grave. A sweet and lovely girl, gen- 
tle as a lamb, musical as a bird, bright as a fresh- 
blown rose, is suddenly attacked by sickness, and 
amid throes of agony meets the dreaded monster, 
which has hung so many homes with mourning and 
broken so many hearts with grief. A young hus- 
band, the support of a noble, confiding, loving wife, 
closes a manly life long before he has reached the 
meridian. His sun sets before, long before^ its noon. 
A young wife is torn from the loving heart of a de- 
voted husband and laid away beneath the sweetest 
flowers in the silent, lonely house of death, there to 
rest until the general resurrection. There are mys- 
teries which we may not attempt to explain. Truly, 
Providence is like the deep, blue sea. Into its depths 
no eye of philosopher or seer has ever yet been able 
to penetrate. It is a mystery, and so to continue un- 
til the light of eternity shall sweep away its dark- 
ness and make every dispensation bright as the face 
of the unclouded sun and more transparent than the 
sea of glass spread out before the throne. 

3. They four had one likeness. Providence is 
uniform. It is not controlled by passion, but by 
principle. It is as the four wheels of a great char- 
iot, all moving in unison. One great purpose rules 



The Wheels m EzeheVs Vision. 175 

the Divine mind, and, whether he creates or whether 
he destroys, he means to accomplish the same great 
end; whether he speaks in the thunder or whispers 
in the zephyr; whether he flashes in the lightning 
or rays out in the calm sunshine; whether his voice 
is heard in fearful curses from Mount Ebal or in 
gentle blessings from Gerizim, he seeks alone the 
good of his creatures and the greatest happiness to 
the greatest number. To the eye of faith there is 
but one likeness to all the wheels of Providence. 

4. Providence is complicated. It is a wheel in 
the middle of a wheel. The complications of Di- 
vine providence are astounding. You have visited a 
cotton factory, and have seen the silken fleece de- 
prived of its seeds, converted into soft rolls, turned 
into thread, and manufactured into cloth, and all by 
wheels working together in a very complicated man- 
ner. It was wheel within wheel, the working of 
which was so complicated as to baffle the under- 
standing and almost make the head grow dizzy. 
Such and so many are the complications of Provi- 
dence that an archangel may fail to unravel them as 
the rapid movements of the intervolved wheels baffle 
even his keen vision. 

5. This Providence is universal. The wheels go 
upon their four sides— that is, to all points of the com- 
pass. God's providence is everywhere. It pervades 
the universe; it touches the most distant orb and the 
minutest atom. It has been well illustrated by a 
well-organized postal service. Letters are put in the 
post-office, and all seems confusion. But there is a 
direction on the envelope which enables the officer to 
classify all, and to send each upon its appointed mis- 



176 Arroios from Two Quivers. 

sion. They are borne to the four quarters of the 
globe. Each goes upon its silent mission. Many of 
them come to your city. They are carefully placed in 
I the hands of the postman. By him they are con- 
' veyed along every street. One is conveyed to a pal- 
ace, another to a hovel. One brings sorrow, another 
joy. The delivery of one is followed by tears, and 
another by smiles. The good government has done 
all in love, and sees that none shall be neglected. So 
it is with -Divine Providence. He sends his messages 
east and west, north and south. He does all in love. 
To one is borne a message of grief, to another a mes- 
sage of joy. One tells of a happy marriage or a joy- 
ous birth, and another of a sad death. But they go, 
and all are sent in love. 

6. Providence moves forward, straightforward, to 
the accomplishment of its great purposes. It turns 
not. The wheels are never locked. They never turn 
aside. To our poor mortal vision they may seem to 
turn aside from the one great aim, and sometimes 
they may seem to stop as though they were locked 
and could not move another inch. But on they go. 
Look at Joseph. He was to be placed in power in 
Egypt, and his brethren were to bow to him; he was 
placed in a pit to die, but Providence delivered him; 
he was sold into slavery, and his brothers were tri- 
umphant. The wheels seem to stop. He is made 
ruler in Potiphar's house. Here is an advance. But 
again the wheels seem to lock when he is thrown into 
prison through the cruelty of his mistress. The 
wheels were not locked. The chariot of God was 
moving forward. "Wheels within wheels carried Jo- 
seph until the dream was fulfilled, and his brothers 



The Wheels in EzelcieVs Vision, 177 

brouglit the aged Jacob, and together tliey all bowed 
attlie feet of liim who had been mourned as dead, and 
who had really been throvrn into a pit and then into 
a prison, from all of which he was brought out in 
safety and in triumph by the wheels of Providence. 

7. Then the rings of the wheel were so high that 
they were dreadful. Providence often fills with dis- 
may. It often terrifies, and a fearful panic seizes 
upon whole communities. It is often thus that peo- 
ple are stunned by the fearful displays of Divine pow- 
er. They astonish, they alarm. They are so high 
that they are dreadful. I have seen frightened fami- 
lies running from a plague. They had lost their wits. 
They knew not what they were doing. As God moved 
forward the great revolving wheels of his providence 
people hurried from the sight, and seemed desirous 
of hiding themselves from the presence of the "great 
and terrible God." 

8. Providence is wise. Their rings were full of 
eyes. The eye, as the organ of vision, is often used 
to illustrate knowledge or wisdom. They are so em- 
ployed in this wonderful vision. God is wise. His 
knowledge embraces all things: the good and the 
great, the simple and the complex. He knows not as 
we know, but without effort and infallible certainty. 
The darkness is as the light. He knows the end from 
the beginning. Hence, ho can turn the event to good. 
When man fell and brought death and all our woes, 
and all was lost, God, in his providence, brouglit good 
out of evil. God did not make man to sin, but he of- 
fered a remedy so that where sin abounded grace did 
much more abound. In redemption God revealed 
himself to men and angels in the clearest light and 

12 



178 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

in boundless love. As the God-man hung in agony 
on Calvary, he gave the sublimest expression of Di- 
vinity that the great past of eternity had ever heard. 
As man was redeemed, and God could be just and the 
justifier of the ungodly, God was brought so near 
to man that the throbbings of his great heart could 
be felt. Our God is not impassive. He is tender as 
a mother, and embodies in his own great nature the 
warmest, purest, holiest love, which expresses itself in 
giving his only begotten Son, that whosoever believ- 
eth on him might be saved. So God can and will 
bring good out of evil. He forbids evil; he hates sin. 
It would be better for man not to sin. It is a fear- 
ful, direful curse. Yet such is the wisdom of God 
that he can make the wrath of man to praise him, and 
can restrain the remainder of wrath. 

9. The providence of God is connected with the 
ministry of angels. These are represented as accom- 
panying all the movements of the revolving wheels. 
My brethren, angels are about us. They fan us with 
their wings, they hush us to our slumbers, they min- 
ister to our griefs, they watch along our pathway, they 
hover over our dying couch, they accompany us to 
our home in heaven; they ministered to Abraham, 
and guarded Lot; they were moving the chariots of 
God against the foes of the defenseless Hebrews ; they 
accompanied Jacob in his wanderings; they were with 
Daniel in the den of lions, and with the three Hebrews 
in the furnace of fire; they were near by when Jesus 
of Nazareth was born, and made the air melodious 
with songs of praise; they flew to his side in the des- 
ert, and ministered to his exhausted body and his 
sinking spirit; they are in God's providence as the 



The Wheels in EzekieVs Vision. 179 

ministers to do his will. Holy angels, blessed sons 
of God, shout for joy whenever a sinner yields and a 
soul is saved. 

10. Then the Spirit is also in Providence. The 
Spirit of life is in the wheels. So a better translation 
expresses the meaning. The Holy Ghost in Provi- 
dence. He moves with all the intervolving, compli- 
cated wheels. Whenever these wheels move they are 
not only accompanied by angels, but the Spirit of life 
is in the wheels. I beg you, dear friends, regard this 
picture of Divine providence with prof oundest rever- 
ence and deepest awe. God will not save you with- 
out your own consent. Consent now to be his. He 
calls you; angels invite you; the Holy Spirit warns 
you. I pray you, in Christ's stead, be reconciled to 
God. K. 



XXI. 

OUT OF THE DEN 



" So Daniel was taken up out of the den, and no manner of 
hurt was found upon him, because he beUeved in his God." — 
(Daniel vi. 23.) 

ATEAGIC trial of faith. This its result. That 
he should be cast into the den was the decree 
of Darius; that he should come out of it was the 
decree of the living God. Daniel was grand as he 
went down, but grander as he came up from the 
den. Every hero of God is grandest as he comes up 
from the depths wherein ho has tested God's power 
to deliver. 

1. He made no time or terms with God. He didn't 
say, " I will trust till midnight or three o'clock in the 
morning, and if not delivered will despair." He didn't 
say, " If I am not hurt by Ihe fall when thrown in, 
and the lions are not fearfully fierce, and do not roar 
very loudly, I will still trust God." He simply trust- 
ed God, hurt or no hurt, roar or no roar. 

And we may suppose the demonstrations were 
dreadful. It is not said that the angel subdued the 
nature of the lions, but simply "shut their mouths." 
They retained and displayed their lionish nature, but 
were rendered unable to hart the prophet. When 
Daniel's persecutors were thrown into the den the 
lions " broke their bones ere they reached the bottom." 

What more frightful than a collection of beasts at 
(180) 



Out of the Den. 181 



the feeding hour? The sight and scent of the bloody 
meat render them frantic. Growling, leaping, plung- 
ing, they catch the raw and gory food as it is thrown 
against their iron cage, devouring it amid the noise 
of crunching bones and subdued growls of gratified 
ferocity. 

Think of an unarmed and defenseless man cast into 
a den of such blood-thirsty beasts. But Daniel went 
into that den by faith; and faith sees no difference 
in a den and a palace, and hears the lion's growl as 
the kitten's cry. 

Here is where we miss it. We make time and terms 
with God. We rest our case too often on the density 
of the darkness or the ferocity of the lions. There 
are dens in every life-journey, and we cannot evade 
them. Go through them we must. No man reaches 
heaven but through the dens. Sometimes we say, 
" We will trust until certain things are tried, and until 
a certain time or a certain opportunity has passed; 
and if not delivered, then we will give up in despair." 

Had Daniel set a time-piece for the Lord to work 
by, and set the hour at midnight, or two or three in 
the morning, then he hr.d perished in the den. * True 
faith has no time-piece, no fixed hour, never looks at 
the clock, but trusts and rests in God. 

We get into the den and we hear the omnious 
growl of the old destroyer, disease. We say " we are 
trusting God," but we want a certain physician, and 
we call him in haste and we hope until his skill is 
exhausted, and then we give up the struggle. We 
get into the dismal old den of debt where so many 
bones are bleaching; and we hear the roar of the old 
beast of bankruptcy, and we begin to look around for 



182 Arrows from Two Quivers, 



a way of escape — some turn whereby we may evade 
him and keep ont of his jaws. "We say, " We will trust 
God until we have tried a certain scheme — speculation, 
or appealed to a certain friend— and if there is then 
no relief, we will surrender." 

Another gets into the pit of penitence, where the 
" pains of hell get hold upon him," where all his sins 
turn to lions and roar and gnash upon him. He says: 
"I will pray so long, I will talk with a certain minis- 
ter, I will attend a certain meeting, I will go to the 
public altar so many times; and if not relieved, then 
I will give up the conflict." 

All this is but fixing time for the Lord. It is a 
cowardly listening to the roar of the lions. It is the 
great mistake that keeps us in the pits. These are 
the things that cut every rope let down to deliver us. 
Daniel trusted all night, regardless of time or growls 
or demonstrations. 

2. His deliverance ivas complete, " There was no 
manner of hurt found upon him." Here we have his 
condition clearly stated. Out of the depths, and up 
from the midst of the beasts, and no manner of hurt 
upon him. As sound in body, as comfortable in mind, 
and stronger in faith than when he was cast into the 
den. It was according to his faith. A perfect faith, 
a perfect deliverance. 

We get out of the dens sometimes, but we come 
out badly scratched and torn, lacerated after such 
manner that we are never the same persons afterward. 
How many have been so damaged by some single mis- 
fortune, some great loss, some bitter disappointment 
that they gave up life and seemed only to drift with time ! 

But Daniel came out mightier than when he went 



Out of the Den. 183 



in. The soul that bravely trusts in God cannot only 
be quiet and rest and sleep in the den of grief or 
loss or misfortune, but, refreshed, it comes forth 
stronger than before it suffered. 

He gave the glory to God. "My God hath sent 
his angel, and hath shut the lion's mouth that they 
have not hurt me." He had fixed his faith in God, 
and now he puts the glory right where his faith was. 
There is where we generally give the praise. If our 
faith is in a fellow-man, we glorify the fellow-man. If 
it be in some means employed, we glorify that means. 
If it be in self, we glorify self. But he saw the angel 
and recognized his service; but he gave the glory to 
God. He did not lodge his gratitude and praise with 
the messenger, but lifted them to the God who sent 
that messenger. How often we mistake just here! 
Raised up from sickness, we praise the physician and 
the remedy, forgetting that God was in it all. A 
friend extricates us from debt; we lodge the grat- 
itude with him, and forget the God who moved his 
heart to do the noble need. A man is drowning, a 
brave arm comes to his rescue; he forgets the God 
who sent deliverance, and gives his worship to the 
human deliverer. Best friends, kindest ministries, 
even angels from heaven are to be second in our 
praises because they are second in our deliverance. 

God is behind all. No angel had ever gone to that 
den, but that God sent him. There are angels al- 
ways about us as we go through life's dens, but 
they are present by God's ordering. No angel floats 
near us in time of trouble or danger except as it is 
sent of God. Let us stand by this open den, and learn 
from the rescued prophet to say, "God hath sent." 



184 Arrows froin Two Quloers, 

Sent the physician, sent the friend, sent the deliver- 
ance, in whatever form it may have come. 

3. Why this deliverance? "Because he believed in 
his God." 

This is the key to this mr.rvelous history. Not de- 
livered because of what he was. Not because he was 
a prophet. Not because he had been in high office. 
Not because he was wise and skilled in the art of in- 
terpretation. Not because he was a favorite of 
heaven, a pet of divine providence. Providence does 
not keep any pets. He was saved " because he believed 
in his God." 

Lions have little regard for greatness or goodness. 
They would have devoured Daniel as quickly as they 
did his executioners, had not God sent His angel to 
shut their mouths. The evil spirits and unholy in- 
fluences that combat us in life have about as much 
regard for our wisdom, skill, and dignity as the lions 
had for Daniel's gifts and excellence. And we over- 
come, and escape, and rise above them, like he came 
up from the den; because we trust in God. 

Ask that aged widow, sitting now in feebleness, re- 
ceiving the tender care of her children, who now rise 
up to "call her blessed;" ask her how she supported 
and reared the seven fatherless ones left to her in her 
widowhood and poverty? She will tell you: "I had 
faith in God." Ask that sufferer, twenty years bed- 
fast, with no hour of ease, how she has endured and 
been cheerful, and even risen in spiritual life? She 
will tell you: "I have believed in my God." And 
how frequently has your own faith lifted you out of 
difficulties and dark places where, without it, you 
had been overwhelmed! 



OiAt of the Den. 135 



4 The sublimity of faith. How sublime is that act 
o£ the soul whereby, when all human help has failed, 
it lifts itself above the natural and the visible, and 
moves and rests in the supernatural! Like those 
birds which are equally at home on the earth or in 
the air. .When hotly pursued, they spread wings and 
soar away beyond the pursuer's shots. 

Thus the soul, when pressed to the extreme of the 
visible, may spread its faith-wings and ascend beyond 
the dangers, and rest in that region where the air is 
clear and the elements at rest. 

The eagle is never so grand when on its perch or 
walking the earth, but when on its flight, when near- 
est the sun and supported by an element that is in- 
visible. 

The soul is made to walk or fly, but is never so 
grand with its wings folded. Its royalty does not ap- 
pear when favorable conditions give solid rest for its 
feet. But its greatness is manifest when all visible 
supports drop from under it and with full-spread 
wings it ascends into the restful realm of the super- 
natural. 

It takes the storms to drive some birds up into 
the higher atmosphere. They ascend to keep above 
the storm furies. The life tempests are aimed to 
drive us up higher, to make us familiar with the 
loftier realms, to bring us nearer the sun — the 
great central " Sun " of the universe of immortals. 

5. We are indisposed to fly. The eaglets must be 
taught by maternal severities to use their wings. God 
has to teach us to use ours. "We manage to walk, 
and shuffle, and trot along very well; but we are very 
slow to take wings. " Like the quail of the field, we 



186 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

are disposed to run and squat and hide and stick 
close to the ground, rather than fly." Eeady to risk 
a thicket or covering of grass sooner than rise and 
risk the invisible. But the grandeur of faith is to 
rise and risk the God you cannot see. Daniel saw 
nothing 'twixt him and the jaws of the lions, but God 
was there. The Hebrew brothers saw nothing be- 
tween them and the furnace flame, but God was be- 
tween. There have been times when you could see 
nothing between you and destruction, but God was 
intervening. The Invisible, the Unseen, the "Lo I 
am with you " was twixt you and the destructive ele- 
ments' 

Faith apprehends and endures as " seeing Him who 
is invisible." It brings the unseen into view, and, 
rising and resting in him, it triumphs ever more. 
" Have faith in God," Lift yourself above the thick- 
ets, and grass-tufts, and bird-hidings of this low 
earth. Dwell in the unseen. Eest in the divine at- 
mosphere. Then shall it be said of you, at the last, 
as of the prophet: " He is taken up from the last pit, 
with no manner of hurt upon him, because he be- 
lieved in his God." M. 



XXil. 

WORLDLY VANITY. 



" Vanity of vanities, saitli the Preacher, vanity of vanities ; all 
is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labor which he 
taketh under the sun? " (Ecclesiastes i. 2, 3.) 

THE great question now asked in reference to any 
enterprise is, Does it pay? That question was 
asked in the time of Solomon. It is an important 
question, and the correct answer solves the problem 
of human life. The author of the text had had the 
largest experience and w^ith unequaled opportunities 
to try all the pursuits and follow all the paths then 
open to man. In reference to each he asks the 
question, Does it pay? or, " What profit hath a man 
of all his labor which he taketh under the sun? " 

He first gave his heart to seek and search out by 
wisdom concerning all things that are done under 
the sun. He became wise. He was a scientist, 
ahead of any scholar of his day. He loved nature, 
and understood many of her laws. He was, for his 
time, skilled in the natural sciences, having num. 
bered and classified many plants and flowers, birds 
and beasts, and having made large investigations in 
the world of organic matter. He was a poet of no 
mean talent and a writer of proverbs, numerous, va- 
rious, and wise. He became a statesman, wise and 
successful, and established a government that won 
for him the admiration of surrounding nations. In 
fact the whole world of human knowledge then ac- 

(187) 



183 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

cessible had been accurately and laboriously explored 
by him. He was a head and shoulders above all the 
lovers of knowledge in the period in which he lived. 
He had sore travail — earnest, constant, and excessive 
labor in his search for wisdom. But he persevered 
and succeeded. Now he is prepared to answer the 
question, Does it pay? His answer is: "In much 
wisdom is much grief; and he that increaseth knowl- 
edge inci*easeth sorrow." Yet he said: "Wisdom ex- 
celleth folly, as far as light excelleth darkness." In 
its place knowledge is desirable, but not as the su- 
preme good. It does not satisfy. It leaves its pos- 
sessor with wants unsup23lied and with an aching 
void which expresses itself in one significant word: 
" Vanity of vanities ; all is vanity." The royal preach- 
er does not mean to depreciate knowledge, except as 
the supreme good. It is good in its place. It is as 
much superior to folly and ignorance as light to 
darkness, and yet it is an utter failure as the one 
great and only object of human pursuit. It may be 
varied and profound. It may embrace all matter, 
and may go on and explore all mind. It .nay count 
the stars, and take their dimensions and determine 
their weight. It may descend into the darkest cav- 
erns of earth, and bring out to the light their im- 
mense possessions of wealth and beauty, ii may 
examine every fossil, and revel amid the brilliant 
gems which the dark, unfathomed caves of ocean 
bear. It may make discoveries and pencil new isl- 
ands of light in the vast archipelago of the skies. It 
may take in the fine arts, and make oratory and po- 
etry, music and painting, contribute of their vast 
means to the higher culture of the progressive mind; 



Worldly Vanity. 189 



and then to all this may be added all that history 
ever recorded, and a knowledge of all the languages 
in which thought was ever conveyed; and still it will 
be felt that all the wisdom of this world is utterly in- 
capable of meeting the great capacities of the human 
soul. So far as constituting the supreme good, all 
human knowledge is vanity and vexation of spirit. 
It is changing with each generation. It passeth 
away. It leaves its possessor standing upon the 
shores of a limitless ocean, with only a few pebbles 
gathered, saying: "All is vanity." 

Then the royal preacher turned away from the 
Pierian spring, and said: "I will try mirth; I will 
seek pleasure. I will moisten these lips with wine. 
I will be happy in the very madness of folly." So he 
tried to be happy amid the scenes of licentious enjoy- 
ment, which were largely within his grasp. Epicurus 
never indulged so much, and the reveling hedonist 
endeavored to sip pleasure from every flower and to 
make every passion and principle of his being yield 
to the one great desire for pleasure. The drunken 
revel, the licentious dance, and the full gratification 
of every appetite— all these, and more, were made to 
contribute to earthly enjoyment. He tarried long at 
the wine; he drank mixed wines; he sought the asso- 
ciation of boon companions; he exhausted every cup 
of pleasure until his own powers of enjoyment were 
themselves exhausted, and all that earth could give 
palled upon his taste, and then, with disappointment 
in his looks and in his heart, he turned from it all 
with these ever-recurring words: " Vanity of vanities; 
all is vanity." Then he turned to wealth. He made 
great works; he builded houses; he planted vine- 



190 Arrows from Tivo Quivers, 

yards; he made gardens and orchards; he obtained 
men-servants and maid-servants; he had possessions 
of cattle; and gathered silver and gold and the pe- 
culiar treasures of kings — and again all was vanity. 
Eiches may pour in by the millions; they may exist 
in every form; they may embrace every variety of 
real and personal property, and may consist of in- 
vestments regarded as permanent; and yet wealth 
does not, cannot, meet the demands of the immortal 
soul. Good in their place and capable of being 
wielded for the progress of civilization and the in- 
crease of human happiness, they are of themselves 
utterly and forever incapable of solving the problem 
of human life or of satisfying the great aspirations 
of redeemed humanity. To pursue riches as a chief 
good is to dwarf the soul and make it hard and cal- 
lous; it is to make man a miser, with gold for his 
idol; it is to confine the great, immortal, ever expan- 
sive soul to the surface of a coin, and never allow it to 
pass beyond the circumference. That coin limits his 
hopes, and is the culmination of his earthly aspira- 
tions. Colder than ice and harder than stone, a soul 
that might have basked in eternal sunshine and re- 
joiced in constantly increasing activity and progress 
finds itself lost to all lofty emotions and sweet sym- 
pathies amid the heaps of coins gathered by incalcu- 
lable toil and a horrid perversion of all its powers. 

Then the soul, turning away from wisdom and 
pleasure and wealth — from philosophy and sensual- 
ity, from Platonism and Epicurianism — became a 
stoic hundreds of years before stoicism was known. 
He said: "There is a time for every thing. Every 
thing is bound in fate. I will be utterly indifferent. 



Worldly Vanity. 191 



I will just take things as they come. I will meet, 
without care, without anxiety, and without any effort 
to promote or avert, all the changes of fortune, as 
there is a time for all things, and nothing can possi- 
bly effect a change. I w^ll be a stoic. Let come 
what may, I am on the stream and nothing can 
change the current." If a man is born to be hanged, 
he will be hanged, and nothing can change his desti- 
ny. A doctrine, hard, cold, and uncomforting and 
false, called forth another ejaculation: "All is vani- 
ty." The rebound from wild scenes of mirth and 
laughter, from piles of silver and gold, had borne 
him to fatalism, and he resolved neither to seek 
one thing nor another, but to drift with the current 
and be carried to his destiny, as heedless of that des- 
tiny as the brutes that perish or the current on whose 
surface he was borne. But this would not do. This 
did not satisfy either reason or conscience. This did 
not pay, and he turned from it with disgust, if not 
with horror. And surely nothing is more horrible to 
enlightened reason and a pure conscience than this 
doctrine of fatalism. It destroys human responsibil- 
ity, robs God of his highest attributes, and leaves 
man a mere machine, without power of choice and 
driven by dire necessity to do and suffer all that is 
either done or suffered. Looking at the doctrine as 
he had looked at the various objects to which he had 
turned for supreme good as altogether unsatisfying, 
he again utters the words of the text: "Vanity of 
vanities; all is vanity." Fatalism did not pay. It 
honored neither God nor man. It was unsatisfacto- 
ry as a theory and grossly absurd and abominable in 
practice. 



192 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

Then he considered the unequal earthly conditions 
of men — the conditions of the oppressed and oppress- 
or, the former without a comforter, and pouring out 
tears of sorrow, and the unresisted power of the lat- 
ter swayed by selfishness and exercised with remorse- 
less cruelty— and praised the dead which are already 
dead more than the living which are alive. He looked 
to nonentity. He thought it better that no human 
being had ever lived. Life was a failure. It had no 
ultimate good. Its voyage must end sooner or later 
in a wreck. There was no future — no immortality. 
It was all dark nonentity in the future as in the past. 

But this reflection gave no comfort, and he turned 
from it in dismay, crying: "Vanity of vanities; all is 
vanity." Turning away from these dark thoughts, he 
sought earthly fame. A good name was better than 
precious ointment. Fame, the greatest that had ever 
been won by man, extending to the ends of the earth, 
astonishing the rulers of other lands, and bringing 
them to see his glory, was won by this wonderful 
man. It came at his bidding; it elevated him far 
above ordinary mortals; it astonished the vulgar, and 
excited the wonder of all. But it did not satisfy. It 
found him unhappy, and it did not take away his 
grief or mitigate in the least his troubles. Again all 
was vanity and vexation of spirit. Then he sought 
power, extensive and commanding. As though by a 
wand of enchantment it came at his bidding. His 
monarchy was absolute. His words were almost om- 
nipotent over his people. No enemy dared lift his 
head in that kingdom against the most popular and 
powerful of human kings. His scepter not only com- 
manded respect and obedience, but filled the multi- 



Worldly Vanity. 193 



tudes with reverence and awe. Power failed as 
greatly to solve the problem of life as had wealth and 
fame. Now what was he to do? He had successful- 
ly tried every human pursuit, and had met with 
greater success than had ever before crowned the ef- 
forts of man. Still the immortal thirst of the soul 
remained unquenched. Satisfaction, calm, serene, 
and full, had not been secured. Still, all was vanity 
and vexation of spirit. 

What must he do? He again turned to wisdom. 
He earnestly searched and sought for it, as for a con- 
cealed treasure; and all that he found amounted to 
this: God made man upright, and he hath sought out 
many inventions. But it was well with them that 
feared God. Now he was beginning to learn. After 
all his vain search he learned that they alone were 
happy — they alone had solved the mysterious prob- 
lem of life — who feared the Lord. The righteous and 
the wise and their works were in the hand of God. 
Wisdom was better than strength and better than 
weapons of war, but one sinner destroyeth much good. 
At the last he resteth upon a character perfect. It 
was to be like the ointment of the apothecary, per- 
fectly preserved from the taint of dead flies. God 
was to be remembered from youth to old age. To 
fear him and keep his commandments was the whole 
duty of man. Here he rested. Satisfaction, thorough 
and complete, filled his heart. The judgment might 
come, but all was well. 

Away from the fear of the Lord, and apart from 

God's holy service, all was vanity and vexation of 

spirit. I beg that you will look upon this picture. 

Here is a royal prince born to a kingdom, remarkable 

13 



194 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

for his liigli talents, and winning renown in every de- 
partment of life — in science and philosophy, in the 
successful administration of affairs of State, in power 
to solve the most difficult questions, in the beauties 
of poetry, and in the wisdom of proverbs, excelling 
almost every man of his time, inheriting the largest 
wealth, and living in more than royal splendor; in his 
old age, with faculties ripe, experience diversified, and 
standing upon the verge of the grave, and in direct 
view of the last judgment, with honesty transparent, 
and under a sense of responsibility proportionate to 
his wide experience and his large opportunities^ — de- 
claring that the pursuit of merely worldly wisdom, of 
pleasure, of wealth, of power, of all the honors of this 
world was not worthy of an immortal being. The 
pursuit might be successful, but could not satisfy the 
immortal aspirations of our redeemed humanity. You 
might win them all and still be miserable, with the 
eternal thrist still parching the lips and drying the 
blood. All that can be secured of earth leaves man a 
wanderer, groping in darkness, and starving for real 
food. The soul is too high in its birth, too noble in 
its aspirations, too much like its great Author, whose 
image it once bore, to be satisfied with any or all the 
garbage of earth. God alone, in the fullness of his 
being, can satisfy immortal man. 

Filled with his love, embraced in his arms, pressed 
to his heart, and rejoicing in his approving smiles, 
the soul has solved life's problem, and is prepared to 
Iqok with a calm yet eager and aspiring gaze to a fut- 
ure immortal, pure, and happy. 

In this view of life there is no need of failure. The 
crown of eternal happiness, secured by everlasting 



Worldly Vanity. 195 



love, shall shine with a splendor which time cannot 
dim, and which will increase through all the eternal 
years of an unending future. 

The great ocean of human life is covered with 
wrecks. They warn us on every shore of the dan- 
gers of the voyage. Let us for a moment mark the 
destiny of the numerous voyagers across life's ocean. 
Here goes a ship with flying pennant, and upon a 
clear, calm sea. Its crew are active and enterprising, 
and all the passengers are on the alert. It is the ship 
Discovery, and all on board are seeking for knowl- 
edge. For a time it sails the great ocean like a 
thing of life. It floats as gracefully as a bird. With 
bright sky above and a calm sea beneath, all things 
promise success. But look! it is carried into fearful 
dangers. Clouds darken. The storm how^ls. A whirl- 
pool draws with its insidious current. On it is borne, 
and round and round it sweeps with ever-increasing 
rapidity. At last the fearful vortex swallows it, and 
now nothing is left but a floating wreck. All is lost! 
"Vanity of vanities; all is vanity." Here is another 
ship. It is a thing of perfect beauty. It moves with 
a perfection of grace. It sparkles in the summer 
sunshine like a brilliant gem on the ocean. It is the 
ship of Pleasure. On board all is bright. The mu- 
sic is sweeter than the harp of Orpheus ever pro- 
duced, and the syrens never equaled its charming 
songs. All is sweet and soft as marriage bells. 
Mirth prevails. Laughter is loud and boisterous. 
The goblet sparkles with the richest wines. The 
dance increases the merriment as it bounds in sym- 
pathy with the most voluptuous strains of music. 
But listen, a voice comes sounding over the waves! 



196 Arroivs from Two Quivers, 

Take care, you are nearing the maelstrom. Louder 
swells tlie music, more joyous sounds the laughter. 
On, on goes the bright ship o£ Pleasure. Look! now 
it is in the whirl. See! its masts are broken. Hear! 
the music is changed to a wail. Signs of distress 
are hung out. It is too late. No hope now! Dashed 
against hidden rocks, the beautiful ship goes down a 
stranded wreck. The great ship Ambition starts out 
prouder than any of the rest; stronger too, for it is 
made largely of iron and brass, and its timbers are 
the strongest oak. It attempts to pass between Scyl- 
la and Charybdis — a foaming gulf on one side, a fear- 
ful cliff on the other. Dashed against the cliff, it is 
borne a wreck into the angry gulf, and all is lost. 
But see! there moves in the greatest grandeur the 
ship Plutus. "Wealth is carried upon both prow and 
stern, and gold and silver on both its sides. But 
down it goes like lead into the deep. 

The sea is strewn with wrecks. The sturdiest ves- 
sels have been swept by the storm. The most hope- 
ful voyagers have had every hope blasted, and life 
itself sacrificed in pursuit of phantoms, and have 
gone to join in the one sad, bitter cry: "All is vanity 
and vexation of spirit." 

But look! another ship moves out from the harbor, 
and we read, " The Old Ship of Zion." From deck and 
mast and cabin arise prayers for a safe voyage. A 
song, soft, sweet, and tender as the music of angel 
harps, floats over the sea. ** There is a fountain 
filled with blood," and then another swells out from 
the floating canvas, "Jesus, Lover of my soul," and 
still another is pealed from organ, accompanied by 
sweetest voices. "The Old Ship of Zion." It will 



Worldly Vanity. 197 



not be wrecked. Christ is on board. Angels hover 
over it. If a storm comes, a voice says: "Peace, be 
still," and the waves dash no more. She makes the 
passage in perfect safety, and lands all her crew and 
every passenger on the shining shore. Who will 
come aboard to-day, and leave the wretched vessels 
that are certain of being wrecked? We offer you 
free passage and a safe voyage to heaven, the home 
of the pure and faithful. R. 



XXIIL 
THE RESURRECTION BODY, 



" But some man will say, How are the dead raised up ? and 
with what body do they come? Thou fool, that which thou 
so west is not quickened, except it die: and that which thou 
sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bear grain, 
it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain : but God giveth 
it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own 
body." (1 Corinthians xv. 35-38.) 

SHALL we arise from the dead? is not the ques- 
tion of this hour. That is a settled question — 
settled by the logic of St. Paul, by the word of God, 
by the resurrection of Christ. Nor is it a question 
as to whether this veritable body shall arise. There 
is nothing else buried, and hence nothing else to rise. 
If there be a resurrection, it must be a resurrection 
of this body. 

This entire fifteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians is a 
chapter upon the body. It relates to the body and to 
nothing else. Christ redeemed the body as verily as 
the soul. And this lengthy chapter is given wholly 
to this subject. 

Reason also joins with revelation in testimony. 
The body is a part of the person. Soul and body set 
out together on the life-march. They toil together, 
endure together, suffer together. The body gives ex- 
pression to each grace and impulse of the soul. The 
eyes give tears to tell its griefs. The tongue and 
(198) 



The Resurrection Body. 199 

voice give words and songs to express its joys. The 
feet are ready, at the soul's command, to run on ev- 
ery mission of mercy, and the hands to toil at its bid- 
ding. Then, when the mutual work is ended, shall 
the soul be exalted to eternal honor, while the body 
is left forever in dishonor and corruption? Not so. 
God's justice, like his word, declares: "This mortal 
must put on immortality." 

Then the question before us is, What manner of 
body shall ive have? "How are the dead raised up? 
and with what body do they come? " 

It is a matter of moment with us as to what man- 
ner, of body we live in here. And it is proper that 
we preserve and perpetuate, as long as we may, what- 
ever of physical excellence God has given us. Gath- 
ering wrinkles and whitening hair are not cause for 
special rejoicing, save to such as are weary of life, 
and to whom they are the tokens of coming release. 
Then, if it be matter of concern for the body wherein 
we are here to dwell for a brief season, there must, 
logically, be profound solicitude to know what man- 
ner of body we shall have in the eternal state. 

Observe, the apostle does not employ the word 
^^ buried,^' but ^^ sown''' — clearly implying no idea of 
annihilation or an ended existence, but rather (as 
the term implies) a continued and increased life. 
Sowing implies natural, confident expectancy of new 
and multiplied life. Among the Germans the ceme- 
tery is called "God's acre." As the husbandman 
sows the seed in God's soil, and under his rain and 
sunshine, expectant of a new and beautiful life to 
that grain, so we lay the body of our loved one 
down in the same earth and under the eye of the 



200 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

same God, confident of a new and glorious resurrec- 
tion life. God gives the wheat grain a resurrection 
from year to year to feed and sustain our bodies. 
That is the sole purpose painted upon every golden 
field and grooved into every tiny grain that falls from 
the sower's hand. It is to feed the human body. Then 
if he keep these bodies living for seventy years, by 
seventy annual resurrections, will he, after all, allow 
the body itself to perish for lack of a resurrection? 

1. What do we mean by "this body?" If we say 
this body shall rise from the dead, infidelity answers: 
"Impossible, absurd, preposterous! These bodies 
dissolve, go back to dust, pass in gaseous forms into 
the air, are transmuted into vegetation and thence 
into other forms of animal life, devoured by land and 
sea animals, and thus are changed into a thousand 
elements from which they can never be regathered." 
Now if this were the point contended for, we might 
give the hour to its discussion. But the true sub- 
stance or body is a something different from the ma- 
terial particles. " It is that which stands underneath 
the outward corporeal and gives to it its sole reali- 
ty." Now it is upon this true substance and not upon 
the material particles that the identity rests. There 
are two parent words from which the two ideas come. 
Both signify a body, but the word " sarx " signifies 
the coarser, the fleshly particles, while the "soma" 
is the true substance, or that on which identity is 
based, that which gives the corporeal " its sole real- 
ity." ^ ^ 

This is a subtle and mysterious fact which lies so 
close to the unknown that we cannot reason upon it. 
You will observe that St. Paul doesn't try to reason 



The Resurrection Body. 201 



upon it. He brings his mighty logic to bear in argu- 
ment for the fact of a resurrection; but when he comes 
to the ''hoiv'' and ''what manner of body," he drops 
his reasoning and simply throws light upon the fact 
by an analogy. He even calls the man a "fool" 
who raises the question on the ground of mere 
reason. "Thou fool, that which thou sowest" is be- 
yond your understanding. So drop your logic and 
follow the grain just fallen from your own hand, and 
be silent while it shall teach you the way of God. 
" Thou soivest not that body ichich shall he:' That is, 
not the particles which shall be; for they must die, 
or else there is no future for the grain. But thou 
sowest the bare grain — no matter whether of " v/hcat 
or some other grain " — but God takes charge of it in 
its buried state, and while the material particles pass 
away, he preserves its identity and gives it a body; 
and to " every seed his own body," or its own identi- 
ty. Every wheat grain that ever fell into the ground 
and gave up its grosser particles was preserved in 
identity and came forth in a new life. And though 
this subtle fact pass the understanding, yet we know 
it is true; the particles are changed and the identity 
preserved. Such is the rapid flow of the particles 
that each period of seven years makes a complete 
change in the material of the body. Now, if this 
change of the material made a change in the identi- 
ty, then a very few years would change the moral re- 
lations of men. The murderer would not be respon- 
sible for the deed committed ten years ago. The 
child bom to you ten years ago would not be your 
child now. And the woman you married a few years 
since would have passed out of marriage relation 



202 Arrows froin Two Quivers. 

with you. This, by the way, would be a happy fact, 
and great convenience in those sections and cities 
where divorce is so much in demand. But identity 
holds while all material changes occur. 

The murderer is on trial. His attorney may plead 
an entire change in the seven years since the deed 
was committed. He may urge that his client is not 
the same man. " The hand that gripped the deadly 
dirk or drew the fatal trigger has perished long since. 
This is another and a new hand. Not a minute par- 
ticle there that was in the hand that shed the blood." 
You can admit all this; and yet you say, " He is the 
identical person who committed the act." And that 
identity is tried, convicted, and executed, notwith- 
standing the entire material change. 

Look at that babe, in helpless infancy. See it 
again in the cares of manhood, and again in feeble 
age. It has a different corporeity in each period, but 
the same personality. . My own infant body, the tiny 
form of a few pulpy ^ pounds, that was nestled first 
upon my mother's bosom, was not the body of my 
manhood. Nor is my present body the same in which 
I may perhaps cripple adown the hill in life's late 
eventime. Now, my point is this: As these bodies 
may change every whit of the material, and yet re- 
main the same person and identity, so in the grave 
they can change again without loss of identity. If 
they have changed already four or five times, they 
can change again without affecting the identity. And 
if you urge that "all the material particles of the 
body must be raised," then I will ask you which 
body you mean? Whether you mean the body of 
my babehood, my manhood, or my old age? Ah! it 



The Resurrection Body. 203 

is neither. It is a something independent of the 
perishable. It is that something which has consti- 
tuted my true selfhood, and by which my friends 
have known me from childhood, and by which they 
will know me when I have passed the last change in 
the grave and shall greet them on that final graveless 
shore. 

2. This pri7iciple is universal. Not that body in 
"particles, but in identity. We bury the little nut- 
brown acorn. Then appears the slender, watery 
sproutlet, then the graceful sapling, then the grand 
and lordly oak — the same in reality, but not the 
same in quantum of material. The oak of two tons 
the same in reality with the acorn of a fraction of an 
ounce. 

We see the dull worm, as it crawls in the dust, 
feeds upon the lowest matter, weaves itself into a 
winding-sheet, makes its own coffin, sinks down in 
the earth, and " waits all the days of its appointed 
time until its change come." At the rising hour it 
comes forth from its broken chrysalis, throws off its 
grave-clothes, and rises a thing of beauty winged for 
its higher and happier sphere. We behold it in its 
new and lovely life as it floats amid the flowers; we 
recognize in it the repulsive worm we saw feeding in 
the dust; but how changed! We cannot reason upon 
it. Reason will not reach it any more than it will 
the mystery of the resurrection body. But there is 
the fact. A happy, sunny, soaring creature — just as 
mysterious as we shall be when we arise from the 
dust of death. 

Come with me to yon lofty cliff, and there in the 
nest of rude material we see an eagle's eggs. This 



204 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

is life in its lowest form — nay, not yet life, but the 
possibility of life. A few weeks pass, and we come 
again, and lo! the eaglets, downy, unfledged, helpless, 
uncouth things, but living. Life in a low form, but 
it is life. It is an advance upon the mere possibility 
of life which we saw at first. We wait another year, 
and then revisit the eyrie on the cliff. There are no 
eggs, no helpless eaglets, nothing sa^e the old nest in 
ruins. But hark! a shrill cry comes down from the 
distant upper deep. We look up, and lo! the proud 
king of the air is soaring, toward the sun, at home in 
his own higher realm. Here is life in possibility, life 
in incipiency, life in full development, but identity 
preserved all through. 

Brethren, we are yet in life's lower stages. We 
beat heavily and helplessly about in this old earth- 
nest; but the time of full fledging approaches. The 
time is near when we will leave the old nest and as- 
cend to the higher, grander, and immeasurable realm 
wherein the expanding nature shall have room, shall 
find its throne, and be with its God. 

3. ^' He giveth it a body as it hath pleased him'^ Giv- 
eth what a body? Not the soul. The soul is not in 
the question. But he giveth to this risen identity a 
body. He giveth it a corporeity. How? "As it 
hath pleased him." Here we note the past tense — not 
as it shall but as it hath pleased him. To get clear 
views of what is to be, we must go back to the origi- 
nal design; stand at the beginning and look down 
through the connections of the Creator's work, and 
we see clearest what is to be; stand at the beginning 
if you would understand the end. 

God had all futurity before him when he made 



The Resurrection Body. 205 

man. The fall, the atonement, death, and the resur- 
rection body. The fact of sin was no surprise, and 
the plan of redemption no after-thought with God. 
He was not so short-sighted as to have to make after- 
provision for any disaster that might occur in the 
roll of the ages. God never had to form any new 
plans or revise any old one. He does not form a 
plan to-day and change it to-morrow. " The gifts 
and calling of God are without repentance." Life 
with us is a series of formations, revisions, changes, 
and regrets. We fall upon a plan and run it half a 
life-time before we find it wrong. But the life of 
God knows no such change. He abides by the first 
constitution of things. What pleases you to-day 
may disgust you to-morrow. Not so with God. 
"He is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever." 
And what pleases him at first will please him forever. 

4. Identity a changeless principle. The great law 
lines of identity running through and through the 
universe are simply God's first thoughts. They run 
through bodies celestial and bodies terrestrial; 
through the glories of the sun and moon and stars; 
through the flesh of men, of fishes, and of birds. 
But while there are different kinds of glories, each 
holds its identity. Identity is God's law, and change- 
less as God himself. 

There has never been the slightest change in this 
principle, even in the minutest part of nature. He 
gave to the wheat grain its peculiar oblong, semi- 
oval and semi-concave form; and through the dust 
and darkness of six thousand deaths and resurrec- 
tions, there has been no semblance of change. But 
the wheat grain that made bread for the pyramid- 



206 Arroivsfrom Two Quivers, 

builders is the wheat grain of to-day. He gave to 
the ape his peculiar, unique, but quadrupedal form, 
and all the scientists of all ages have not been able 
to develop and elevate him into a man, So he gave 
to man, at first, that bipedal, upright, and noble form 
that " pleased him," and there has been no change in it 
to this day, save where sin has marred and maimed it. 

Then, if all things hold their identity, despite the 
ravages of death and time, and if this be God's plan 
and a law of his universe, is not the argument strong 
that the body we are yet to have will be of the same 
mold as the body we now have? 

If there is to be a change in its form there is no 
precedent for it — nothing in all the economy of God 
to indicate it. God will have to reverse the universal 
order of things, or else the resurrection body will be 
in the likeness of the body we now wear. 

5. Freaks of fancy. The mere fancy of the human 
mind is much inclined to make such changes as 
would destroy identity, and even destroy the original 
plan. Poets and painters have ever been inclined to 
make one change in the resurrection body — that is, 
to put wings to it. They are generally great men for 
wings. If they paint a portrait of a babe in the glo- 
ry-land, they will not stop until they have put wings 
to the dear little thing, and thus make it look just 
that much unlike itself — just that far monstrous. 
Think of a mother with a babe in her arms, and that 
babe fluttering a pair of wings. The painter who 
puts a pair of wings to a glorified babe has the same 
right to add a coat of feathers and a pair of claws. 
And I can conceive nothing more grotesque than a 
huge man or a corpulent woman with a pair of wings. 



The Resurrection Body. 207 

The resurrection body of Christ was the true mod- 
el. We are to " be like him," whether in the body or 
out of the body. His identity was unchanged. The 
disciples knew the dear form. No wings; no addi- 
tions; no transformation; nothing to make him seem 
unnatural or other than he had been before his 
death. If this form of ours so pleased God at first, 
that, looking down through man's history, he gave it 
to us, so pleased him that his only Son was clothed 
in it, spent his earthly life in it, even in death pre- 
served it from corruption, raised it from the grave, 
ascended in it, and now wears it in his eternal ex- 
altation — is not the proof clear that he will make no 
change in us save that which is made by eliminating 
the effects of sin? 

6. How is identity preserved without deformity? This 
difficult question finds its answer in this line of 
thought. You ask, " If this veritable body be raised, 
will it not be raised with all its natural and unhappy 
infirmities? Will not the deformity be raised a de- 
formity; the cripple be raised a cripple; the feeble 
old man be raised a feeble old man?" We answer: 
There will be no deformity, no decrepitude or in- 
firmity in the resurrection state. And why ? Because 
these things rest upon the material particles, and 
hence they pass away. If infirmities were based 
upon the true substance or identity, then they would 
not pass away, but would appear in the resurrection. 
But you can easily see that they belong to the mate- 
rial particles. For example: You can scar and change 
the particles, but you can't scar the identity. Let 
the broken limb of your little child be amputated. 
It is scarred and changed. What is changed? Only 



208 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

the material form; the identity is the same. Ampu- 
tate both limbs, and it is still the same precious little 
unchanged identity. 

Thus in death, while the same personality re- 
mains the same, the outward man shall perish. The 
outer and coarser phenomenon will pass away, carry- 
ing with it the scars, deformity, infirmity, and imper- 
fection that belong to it in the natural life. 

We go to the grave to get free from these things. 
We go there to leave the cumbrous elements that 
burden and oppress. We go to the grave " in weak- 
ness," we leave it in power. "We go in dishonor, 
we leave in glory." We go bent, limping, tottering, 
crippling our way into the cemetery; but we shall 
leave it in the beauty of perfection — in the glory of 
resurrection power; marching to the music of an 
eternal triumph; shouting, "Thanks be unto God 
who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ!" 

7. Christ's work ivas typical resurrection work. He 
said: " I am the resurrection." Note how they come 
to him. They come from every compass point, and 
with every infirmity known to humanity. They come 
by multitudes — some bowed to the earth, some hob- 
bling on crutches, others blundering in blindness, 
and others borne upon beds, "and he healed them 
all." See them returning! Crutches and canes are 
left unneeded and lying at his feet, while they are 
" rejoicing, leaping, and praising God." They come 
with groans, but return with songs. 

This is the final resurrection in miniature. The 
race is now groaning its way down to the death val- 
ley. I see the millions on the march — some in blind- 



The Resurrection Body. 209 

ness, others palsied, and others infirm in divers 
forms. I see the strong in eflPort to aid the feeble. 
The old man is leaning on the arm of the son. Fond 
parents are tenderly bearing their afflicted and help- 
less child onward to the sleeping-place of the worn 
and weary. Ah! I more than see them. I am one 
of the multitude helping to carry the helpless, 
laying away the tired ones as they fall on sleep. Al- 
most weekly I commit some new trust to the bosom 
of your beautiful city of the dead — " dust to dust." 
But though the multitude "groan and travail in 
pain," they are moving toward Him who is the res- 
urrection and the life. That is to be the arena of 
of Christ's grandest triumph. His most stupendous 
miracle is yet to be performed. His first was at 
Cana's marriage feast, where he gave the company 
gladness by his presence and his power. But this 
last and grandest of miracles will be at his own mar- 
riage feast, when he shall receive his bride, his own 
redeemed and glorified Church. We are but going 
to the dust for his glory, that he may glorify himself 
in our resurrection. 

The spring-time Sabbath, with its flowers, is the 
type and prophecy of that coming day. Riding with 
a friend at the head of a funeral procession, we came 
into the quiet cemetery. An April shower had just 
passed over. The fresh drops from heaven were still 
clinging and quivering, like liquid silver, upon the 
grass spears and the new-blown flowers. It was a 
scene of beauty, freshness, and life. Simultaneously 
we remarked, ^^How heaidiful! " I thought, how ap- 
propriate the culture of flowers here — to have them 
grow and bloom along the path where the mighty 
14 



210 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

Conqueror erelong shall walk in resurrection power! 
I shall never forget the moment, the scene, the im- 
press. The flowers had a language to me before un- 
heard, as, lifting their heads, they declared, " We are 
decking the pathway of Him who is coming from 
Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah, mighty to 
save." 

I was lifted up in spirit, and for a moment could 
almost hear the distant roll of the advancing resur- 
rection host. 

Brethren, weary, toil-worn marchers in life's dusty 
way, take courage; you shall be present and share with 
him in his last and grandest triumph. M. 



XXIV. 

ZION AWAKE, STRONG, BEAUTIFUL. 



"Awake, awake, put on thy strength, Zion ; put on thy beau- 
tifal garments, Jerusalem." (Isaiah Hi. 1.) 

ZION and Jerusalem are here, as in other places 
in the Bible, put for the Church of God. God 
by his holy prophet calls upon the Church to do three 
things — first, to awake; second, to put on its strength; 
third, to put on its beautiful garments. 

The call to awake implies that the Church is asleep. 
It needs to be aroused. To show the earnestness of 
the great Head of the Church, the call to awake is 
repeated — "Awake, awake." 

We live in a stirring age. The men of the world are 
wide-awake. The business man is looking out for the 
main chance; enterprise was never more active; ener- 
gy was never more on the alert; the world is stirred; 
every thing is moving. In this wakeful, stirring age 
shall Zion, the Church of God, be asleep? In this 
wakeful age shall a death-like stupor come upon the 
spiritual Jerusalem? God calls her to awake — first 
to the clangers around her. The very stir to which we 
have adverted may be dangerous to Zion. It may put 
her to sleep, as though she were under the influence 
of a deadly narcotic. We may allow the activities of 
a mere worldly character to absorb all our powers — 

(211) 



212 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

engage our entire attention. This must not be. The 
noise and bustle of business must not be allowed to 
drown the voice of God as he cries, "Awake." 

The danger to be dreaded, my brethren, is that we 
give all to earth and none to heaven. 

Then the Charch is called to awake to her respon- 
sibilities. The responsibility rests upon the Church 
to enlighten the world by unveiling the shining face 
of the Sun of righteousness. The Bible is to be sent 
into all nations, and the gospel is to be preached to 
all people. Barbarous na^tions are to be civilized. 
For this work — this great work — the Church is held 
responsible. Zion must awake to this great responsi- 
bility. She must move in all her ministry and in all 
her membership, in holy sympathy with the great 
work of human redemption. 

The Church is called to awake to her glorious priv- 
ileges. She is the child of God; the redeemed of 
Christ's blood. Her calling is from heaven. Her 
privileges are little less than those of the angels. 
She is the bride of the Lamb. Let her rise to this 
grand conception. Let her enter the land of Beulah 
and enjoy communion with the Prince of peace. The 
privilege of every member of the Church is to walk 
in the light and rejoice in the sunshine the brightest, 
in hopes the purest, and in associations as exalting 
as they are supernatural. 

Let Zion awake to her duties. Duties cannot bo 
predicated of the mere animal. They belong to the 
human, the rational, the responsible, the immortal. 
Such are the members of Christ's Church. Let 
them be awake to duty. Whatever else be neglected, 
let duties be discharged. This requires constant vig- 



Zion Awake, Strong, Beautiful 213 



ilance, glowing zeal, a ready will, and a tender con- 
science. 

Then Zion is called to put on her strength. The 
strength of the Chnrch is all supernatural. It is not 
found in human learning, in the beauties of poetry, 
in the arts of oratory, in the discoveries of science, 
or in the accumulation of great wealth. Zion must 
put on the strength that comes from God. Let her 
put on the strength of love — not mere human love, 
which is a sublime and powerful passion; but let Zion 
be clothed with love divine. Here is love beyond the 
love of woman. 

A Church full of love is simply irresistible. Not 
by the weight of great argument, not by that myste- 
rious power which enables statesmen to lead the 
multitude, not by the magnetism of piles of gold and 
silver, but by the strength of love pure and divine is 
Zion to move onward in her conquest of the world. 
This is a treasure which, though contained in earthen 
vessels, though found in human hearts, is more pre- 
cious than all the hoards of wealth ever gathered by 
the most successful of earth. It is more precious 
than rubies, and all the things that can be desired 
are not to be compared with it. 

Zion must put on the strength of consistent piety. 
This gives all the strength found in a character solid 
as granite, beautiful as polished marble, and more 
potent than the mighty oak. It was this strength 
that made martyrs shout in the midst of the flames 
and stand unmoved amid tortures the most fiendish, 
cruel, and terrible that ever disgraced humanity or 
dishonored God. Strength of character, pure, con- 
sistent, firm, stands unmoved, though the earth quake 



214 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

and the heavens fall. It shrinks never from duty, 
and prefers death to dishonor, and is nerved with the 
most heroic courage in the presence of danger, dis- 
honor, or death. 

Put on thy beautiful garments, O Jerusalem! The 
figure is changed. The Church is to unite in herself 
all the strength of the highest, broadest, and most 
consecrated manhood, and all the beauty of the sweet- 
est and purest womanhood. She is to have strength 
to resist and beauty to attract; strength to subdue 
and beauty to win; strength to overcome all opposi- 
tion and beauty to excite wonder, love, and praise. 
The Church must have beauty without effeminacy, 
and strength without coarseness. 

Put on thy strength, O Zion, that in thy resistless 
march all opposition may give way, and put on thy 
beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, that fear may be 
turned to love, submission to voluntary consecration, 
and broken-hearted penitence to praise and rapture. 

Like a beautiful woman, with heaven in her eye, 
love in her heart, grace in all her steps, sweetness in 
her spirit, refinement on her tongue, and purity on 
her lips, in every gesture dignity, and refinement in 
all her actions, and clad in garments of faultless mod- 
esty and perfect fitness, the Church is to win her 
grandest conquests and conquer her most stubborn 
foes. A holy Church is a living Church. She is 
clad in garments more beautiful than mortal hands 
ever wove or human skill ever devised. 

Then all this strength and all this beauty must be 
imparted by the Holy Ghost. The power of the 
Holy Ghost is to stir the Church to conquests grand- 
er and more sublime than were ever won amid the 



Ziofi Awake, Strong, Beautiful. 215 

din of battle or the conquests of glorious war. Let 
it never lose this power — it is divine, it is supernat- 
ural, it is Pentecostal. God grant to the Church uni- 
versal, to the pulpit and the pew, to pen and tongue, 
a power which shall surpass Pentecost, and fill the 
world with a flame at once inextinguishable and eter- 
nal. R. 



XXV, 
AARON'S ROD. 



"And it came to pass, that on the morrow Moses went into the 
tabernacle of witness ; and, behold, the rod of Aaron for the house 
of Levi was budded, and brought forth buds, and bloomed blos- 
soms, and yielded almonds." (Numbers xvii. 8.) 

THE contest between Elijah and Baal's prophets 
was upon the question of godhood. That ques- 
tion was settled by fire — an emblem of God, consum- 
ing all and leaving nothing, as if he had said: " I am 
God, and beside me there is none else." 

The question here is a question of priesthood, and 
God settles this by a miracle of growth — a principle 
of development and type of the ever-increasing pow- 
er and priesthood of Christ. 

There are twelve princes, and all candidates for this 
honor. Each, by God's direction, w^rites his name 
upon his staff of office, and the twelve rods are laid 
up before the ark in the tabernacle, where is the spe- 
cial manifestation of the divine presence, and on the 
morrow the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi was 
budded, and brought forth buds, and bloomed blooms, 
and yielded almonds. Thus did God settle the claims 
of the priesthood, nor has it been questioned to this 
day. 

1. The life in this rod, Aaron was the type of Christ 
in his priesthood, and this miraculous life in the rod 
beautifully sets forth that life that is through the 
(216) 



Aaron's Rod, 217 



priesthood of Christ. Christ declares himself to be 
the "Light of the world," and another testifies that 
" in him was life, and the life was the light of men." 
Becoming our high-priest and offering himself, he 
becomes our life and the light of the world. And 
that this life is in the priesthood of Christ alone is 
here set forth in the most marveldus manner. All 
were princes, all in prominence and power — twelve 
scepters, some of them more mighty than Levi. The 
rods are laid up in the same place, and remain there 
the same length of time; yet, when brought out on 
the morrow, every man's rod remained the same 
and unchanged save that of Aaron; while no other 
had so much as a bud, that of Aaron had buds, blos- 
soms, and ripe fruit. 

2. The Christ-life is not transmitted. Temperament, 
disposition, moral principle, and disease are things 
that may be transmitted from parent to child; but 
spiritual life is an implantation from the Son of God. 
These twelve princes were the descendants of Abra- 
ham, sons of the same sire; their rods lay in equality 
before the ark; they w^ere in every way equal, so far 
as the economy of man is concerned; yet only the 
Aaronic rod had life. 

AVe may be thoroughbred, so far as our churchly 
pedigree is concerned; we maybe able to say, "I am 
a Hebrew of the Hebrews," or, with Flavins Jose- 
phus: "I am descended from the sacerdotal line, and 
am of no mean family," and after all we may remain 
as destitute of life as the eleven royal rods that lay 
before the ark. 

3. It is not contagious. Sin and disease have a self- 
propagating power. AVe have no need of a branch 



218 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

of science, with its colleges and its institutions, for 
the spread of disease. Disease spreads itself. Nei- 
ther do we have need of a missionary organization to 
spread sin abroad. Sin and disease disseminate them- 
selves through native impurities. There is so much 
corruption of all kinds in this world that they have 
conductors for their rapid dissemination. Human 
nature is susceptible to sin at a thousand points. 
Men catch vices from each other just as they do 
small-pox, and you have to guard the social atmos- 
phere of your little child to keep him from the con- 
tagion of vice and impurity, just as you would to 
keep him from the most deadly disease. 

4. But these same elements are non-conductors of virtue 
and purity. Hence men do not catch religion from 
one another. The intimate association of the eleven 
dead rods with the living one did not produce the 
slightest intimation of life — not so much as a bud or 
the swelling of the bark indicative of a bud. A man 
may be associated with those who are filled with the 
life of Christ; nay, he may be in the Church for 
years, and yet have no spiritual life. The dead rods 
were as close to the mercy-seat as the living one, had 
as high a position in the house of God, but this did 
not give them life. No man will ever imbibe relig- 
ion by virtue of his relation to those who are in 
Christ. There are children who have grown up un- 
der the care of godly parents, and men who have 
spent life with godly wives, and yet will come to the 
judgment of God as destitute of spiritual life as the 
rods that lay all night before the ark. 

5. The dead did not prevent the living. Personate 
the rod of Aaron, and there was little encourage- 



Aaron's Rod, 219 



ment for it. It might have said: "Here I am in the 
midst of all this death. There is no life in one of all 
my associates. The influences are all against me. I 
cannot live and grow in the midst of this universal 
death." But it was not dependent on its fellow-rods 
for life. It grew from within itself — an inward life- 
force imparted to it; and having this inner life, it lay 
there and grew, and grew rapidly, and budded and 
bloomed and fruited in the same night. 

After all the apologies and complaints of inconsist- 
ency and deadness in the Church, and all the other 
excuses for not serving God, it is a matter of a di- 
vine inner life — a life within ourselves. That living 
rod might have said: "Ah! if I could only see one of 
the other rods growing, that would encourage me and 
I could have heart to try to grow too." But it had a 
divinely-imparted life, and in response to that inward 
life it lifts up its forces, shoves the dead rods out of 
its way, makes room for itself to grow, unfolds its 
buds, and brings forth its fruit; and its growth was 
as rapid as though all the others had been growing 
with equal rapidity. The soul inspired with the 
Christ-life within is not dependent on things without 
and upon its surroundings. It will grow though all 
around be as the dead rods. With that rod it was 
"life in the midst of death." Thus the soul full of 
spirit-life may live and bloom and flourish, though 
the Church be in a dead condition. It will rise per 
force of that inward life, shove the bodies of death 
out of its way, and grow on to grand character in 
Christ. 

6. Church cannot hnpart life, I see the miraculous 
life-forces at work in the growing rod. There it lies 



220 Arroivs from Two Quivers, 

among the dead, and as the sap circulates the leaves 
appear, the buds open and breathe their fragrance on 
the dead rods, the leaves unfold and hang over them 
with all the grace and tenderness of nature, the soft 
tendrils twine about them, the blooms blush over 
them, and even the ripe almonds rest down against 
them. They are so wrapped about by the growth of 
the living rod that it is even difficult to separate and 
shake them from it; but when shaken loose they are 
found as dead as though there had been no life about 
them, as dead as though they had not felt a living 
tendril or been under the shadow of a growing leaf. 

7. The Church is Aaron's rod. It grows up in the 
midst of a world that is dead in sin. This old world 
is a moral dead-house. There is nothing in it that is 
conducive to spiritual life. This is a very earthy 
earth. The world loves its own. Men complain that 
the Church lacks power, and they wonder that she 
doesn't do more. The wonder is that she lives at all 
in the midst of universal death. There is nothing 
that can live in the Dead Sea, and yet the Church 
lives in this Dead Sea which we call the world — a sea 
in which there is no spiritual life that is not sent di- 
rectly from heaven and sustained from the same 
source. The Church lives because the divine life is 
in it, and the fact that it does live is proof that Christ 
is in it. 

8. Influence. The living rod threw its leaves and 
fragrance over the dead ones. The life-forces are 
Avorking in the Church. She throws her influence 
over the ungodly as the odor of flowers. As the fra- 
grance of flowers in the sick-chamber, so is the influ- 
ence of Christianity in this invalid world. Take it 



Aaron's Rod, 221 



away, and you take the flowers from the garden, the 
oases from the desert, the fountain from the wayside, 
immortality from human sentiment, life from the 
world. It was beautiful to see one that flourished, 
even among eleven that were dead. One there may 
be in the family in whom the divine life dwells. Qui- 
etly that grace is budding and blooming and bringing 
its fruit. She is twining her love-tendrils about all 
in the home, and entangling them in all the sweet in- 
fluences that grow out of a pure and beautiful life. 
Still they remain as dead as the lifeless rods. But 
in the final day they shall be disentangled; the sancti- 
fied love forces will be unwound and unwrapped from 
about them. Like Moses shaking the dead rods loose 
from the living one, they shall be shaken loose forev- 
er. I have seen some parting scenes that I shall 
never forget — but save me from the sight of that last 
separation, when the tenderest relations are to be 
severed forever! 

9. No natural agent in this work. Those rods were 
perhaps cut from the almond-tree, but all the life and 
life possibilities were gone out of them — not only 
dead, but long dead; dry, and very dry. No water- 
ing and warming processes could have sprung a life 
principle. They might ha;ve watered and waited for- 
ever. 

Nature and science can do nothing for the soul in 
its native state of death. Separated from God, as the 
rod from the parent stock on which it grew, it must 
be a supernatural work that restores it, and the agent 
supernatural. The blooming of that rod in the space 
of a night was no more marvelous than is the con- 
version of a soul, and there is no regenerating process 



222 Arrows from Tivo Quivers. 

to renew the soul, save the touch of God. Many to- 
day are trying other schemes — paying, working, wish- 
ing, doing, giving, any thing but coming to Christ for 
a new heart and a new life. But there must be an 
impartation of a new life through Christ. '* Te must 
be born again " — then will the dead live; then will the 
heart beat, the life-current flow, the soul expand, the 
buds appear, the blooms unfold, and the fruit ripen. 

10. It ivas instantaneous. The difference between 
the natural and the supernatural is a difference of 
time. It is God and law in both cases. The natural 
is God at work progressively; the supernatural is 
God at work independently of time. Both are the 
same to him. That the dead rod should live at all 
required the divine power; that it should bud and 
bloom in a single night required nothing more than 
that. 

The dead soul, to live at all, must have the touch 
of God, and with this it can live as well in an instant 
as in an age. The publican lived in a moment. The 
soul of the penitent thief budded and bloomed and 
brought forth fruit fit for paradise in an hour, and 
that' hour was on the cross. The sinner that hears 
me this hour, this moment, if he will but give up all 
and admit the divine life into his soul, may go down 
justified. How rapid and radical the changes that 
God can work in men! You see a man to-day who is 
a scoffer. God touches his heart; to-morrow he is a 
witness for Christ and trying to get other men saved. 
How often you see what is hard to believe in the 
changes wrought in the very worst of men! 

11. Soul-life in its stages. Here were first the buds, 
then the blooms, then the fruit in its ripeness. These 



Aaron's Rod. 223 



were all on the same rod, fresh and nnwithered. 
Here is soul-life in its possibilities. This life is not 
one of promise only, but of reality. We have part of 
the life that now is — not all bloom, but some ripe fruit 
even here. The soul yields its fruit every season in 
this life. Though like the first-fruit of summer, 
faulty and defective, yet it is sweet to the taste. I 
have picked up the first apples that fell from the old 
apple-tree that stood in the yard of my childhood 
home, and to my child-taste they were much like the 
taste of a perfect apple, and I had only to wait a lit- 
tle time and I had the luscious fruit of the midsum- 
mer. So there are soul-joys here — a little dwarfed, 
imperfect, and untimely they may be, but they have 
the taste of perfect joys; they remind of the joys that 
will be full. I have rejoiced under some blessings that 
seemed much like the ripe fruit of heaven itself. We 
have only to wait a little time, and we have the mid- 
summer fruits. I loved to go into the orchard when 
the first tints and blushes were upon the fruit, and 
taste the sweets of the imperfect and yet immature. 
So I love to live now among the joys, though imper- 
fect. The blessings here tell me of what is before 
us. They smell of the odor of a heavenly paradise. 

12. The possibilities. There were buds and ripe al- 
monds too upon the rod that was filled with supernat- 
ural life. Such is the soul that is full of the life of 
God — ripe graces and at the same time budding pos- 
sibilities. Buds not yet open. We cannot tell what 
they contain. "Eye hath not seen." I have a rare 
rose-bush; have never seen it in bloom. I go and 
inspect it. The buds are forming; here is one ad- 
vanced bud; it is a little parted, and I see the deli- 



224 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

cate tint as it is ready to peep; but still it ''doth not 
yet appear what it shall be." I wait a time and go 
again. The grand, royal flower is unfolded, and I 
catch its fragrance as its beauty meets my eye, a 
beauty that the bud did not even indicate. The 
beauty we have seen in the loveliest characters in this 
life were but the buds. We saw them in sweet prom- 
ise, then they went away — were transplanted to where 
the climate is eternally friendly to love and beauty; 
where the air and the elements are suited to perfec- 
tion and infinite grace. We saw them last in the 
gloom and mists and icy chill of disease and death. We 
are " waiting a time with patience," and then shall we 
go and see the blooms from these buds, as they give 
out their beauty and fragrance in the paradise of 
God. These buddings, these bloomings, these soul 
possibilities are endless. M. 



XXVI. 
THE CLOUD OF WITNESSES. 



"Wherefore, seeing we also are compassed about with so 
great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the 
sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience 
the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and 
finij-^her of our faith ; who for the joy that was set before him 
endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the 
right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews xii. 1, 2.) 

THE great Apostle of the Gentiles often alludes to 
well-known customs in order to illustrate some 
great spiritual truth. The allusion in this text is to 
the Isthmian games. At these games the contestants 
were among the first men of Greece. Legislators, 
philosophers, orators, and poets were frequently 
found among the athletes contending earnestly for a 
fading crown of green olive-leaves, whose intrinsic 
value was just nothing at all. The preparation for 
these races was made with the highest regard to all 
the lav7S of health and activity. The food was plain 
and nourishing. The daily exercise was practiced 
with direct reference to the attainment of the great- 
est physical strength and the highest possible speed. 
The lives of contestants for the prize were conse- 
quently marked by the strictest temperance, the 
greatest continence, and the most vigorous efforts to 
win the prize for which they entered. It will not be 
necessary in this discussion to enter into a minute 
detail of all the circumstances connected with these 
15 (225) 



226 Arrows from Tiw Quivers, 

physical exercises. The allusidn to them will only 
be made when it is necessary in order to the elucida- 
tion of some great gospel truth contained in the 
text. Allow me to call your attention now to the 
preparation to be made in order to a successful run- 
ning of the Christian race. This preparation is ex- 
pressed in the text by the requisition to lay aside 
every weight and the sin which so easily besets us. 
It is known that the racers used to carry weights, 
and just as they entered upon the race they threw 
aside these weights in order that by the contrast 
they might attain to greater speed. The apostle ev- 
idently has allusion to this custom, We must lay 
aside every weight. We must hold on to nothing 
that can by any possibility retard our progress. The 
cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches 
often hang as weights upon those who are running 
the race for glory. If we allow the cares of the 
world to hang heavily upon us; if we become exceed- 
ingly anxious in reference to the acquisition of 
wealth; if we become disposed to complain of provi- 
dence, or to repine because of poverty — then are we 
poorly prepared to succeed in the Christian race. 
This heavy weight may be too great a care for wife 
or husband, for parent or child. It may be the in- 
fluence of some friend whose company is too agreea- 
ble, and whose indulgence in wit or jests, or whose 
love of wordly conversation is such as to repress 
high aspirations. Whatever it may be, it must be 
laid aside and forever. We must separate from com- 
panionship with any and all persons who would hin- 
der us from Christian duty. These are weights too 
heavy to be borne. It may demand decision of char- 



The Cloud of Witnesses. 227 

acter and firmness of purpose; it may require self- 
denial of the highest type, but the responsibility must 
be met and the duty discharged. Then we are to 
guard against our besetting . sins. Every man has 
his weak point of character. The sin which attacks 
that weak point is called the besetting sin, or the 
well circumstanced sin. One man has a violent 
temper. He is liable to outbursts of rage, at once 
unbecoming a Christian and injurious to his spirit- 
ual welfare. Another is inclined to perpetual pee- 
vishness. The outbursts of the former resemble the 
eruptions of a volcano belching forth volumes of 
smoke and flame; the continuous exhibitions of the 
latter resemble the spitting of flames from some lit- 
tle volcano not in eruiotion, but daily and hourly 
sending out its little forked tongues of fire as though 
designed simply to annoy, but not seriously to harm. 
The former is like the terrible burst of the thunder- 
storm, which fills all hearts with terror; the latter is 
the continuous drizzle, which makes the day uncom- 
fortable without producing terror. Another man's 
weak point is found in a disposition to exaggerate in 
every statement that he makes. And another's is 
found in overweening vanity and an inordinate ap- 
petite for praise. By a little candid and careful ex- 
amination we can all learn at what place to watch. 
Satan will ever be on the alert to storm the fortress, 
and he will ever attack you at that place where he 
will be surest to succeed. Guard your weak points. 
Strengthen yourself at the very points of character 
in which you most need strength. Be ready to meet 
any appeals to sloth, to pride or vanity, to envy or 
hate, to appetite or passion, to habit or inclination, 



228 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

and thus foil the adversary in every attempt he may 
make to enter the citadel of the heart. 

Such is the preparation for the race. Now to the 
race itself. First, we must run the race set before 
us. The track, like that in the Isthmian games, is 
well marked out. The race is set before us. We 
must run true. We must turn aside neither to the 
right hand nor to the left. The racer that left the 
course was sure to lose. By the very laws that gov- 
erned the games he could not win. So it is with us. 
Duty is the only path to be traveled. It is clearly 
and fully stated in God's holy word. It is so plain 
that he that runs may read. The wayfaring man, 
though a fool, need not err therein. It is the path 
of the just, that shines more and more to the perfect 
day. It is the way along which prophets and mar- 
tyrs and the saints of all ages have run. It is the 
course of cross-bearing, of self-denial, of prayer, of 
truth, of faith, of love supreme to God and universal 
to man. In order to succeed in this race we must be 
like the athlete to w^hom the apostle refers. We 
must start well, run true, and continue on to the 
end. Hence it is said that we must run with pa- 
tience the race that is set before us. Impatience 
renders deliberate action impossible. It is the oppo- 
site of calm, consistent firmness. It is often reck- 
less and always incautious. It is spasmodic and vio- 
lent. It is the foe of happiness and the enemy of 
peace. It murmurs and repines. It charges God 
foolishly. It is fretful and discontented. The im- 
patient racer expects the prize before the race is 
run. He hesitates. He despairs. He sets out with 
a dash and a gush, and gives up in disgust. So we 



The Cloud of IVUnesses, 229 

must run with patience. Be calm. Be firm. Move 
on with constantly accelerating speed. Be not de- 
pressed by fatigue, or overcome by obstacles. Do 
not say: "O the race is so long, the difficulties so nu- 
merous that I cannot run any longer in this race.'* 
Be still, and know that I am God, saith the Holy One. 

Looking unto Jesus. Fix your eye and keep it 
fixed on Jesus. Look to him as your Prophet. He 
will teach you all things that you need to be taught. 
He will teach all of duty, all of God, all of eternity 
that may be needful to know. Look to no other 
teacher. Look not to science, not to philosophy, not 
to antiquity, not to human learning. Look to Christ. 
Look to him as your Priest atoning for your sins, 
and redeeming your soul and body from sin and 
death. Look to him as your Sovereign, and as you 
look cry: '^Tear every idol from thy throne, and 
reign, my Saviour, reign alone." Look to him be- 
cause he ran this race and gained the prize. Look 
to him as standing with the crown and offering it to 
all that will run with patience the race that is set 
before them. Turn not to the world, look not to 
man, look not to self, but look away to Jesus, the 
author of your faith. He is a victor. He endured 
the cross and despised the shame. He is now at the 
right hand of God. Look to him as an example of 
patience, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds. 

The incentives to this race are twofold: First, w^e 
are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses. 
These witnesses had been enumerated in the former 
chapter. They are the witnesses of the truth of our 
holy religion. They have witnessed it by their words 
and acts, and sealed their testimony with their blood. 



230 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

As witnesses of a truth which has stood the opposi- 
tion of infidels, the inconsistency of hypocrites, the 
scorn and hatred of men, and the malignity of devils, 
they encourage us to run on in this race. Under all 
circumstances and amid all forms of opposition they 
bore their testimony for Christ and his holy cause. 
If duty led them to a cross or to the flames, they 
'went without fear, and gladly with their dying breath 
testified to the truth and power of our holy religion. 
But the apostle presents them to us as witnesses sur- 
rounding us and looking with eager interest to the 
race that we are running. As at the arena, from 
lofty seats rising tier above tier, the friends of the 
contestants were gathered in the Grecian games and 
encouraged them by their looks and by their words, 
so now from the lofty battlements of heaven these 
witnesses are looking down upon us. There they 
stood in the days of the apostles, and there they 
will stand forever. Their race is run, their prize is 
gained, and now they look upon generation after 
generation as they come upon the arena and enter 
the race for glory. They never tire of this sight. 
They never veil their faces nor close their eyes, un- 
less some one has failed in his course and lost the 
prize of eternal life. Their eyes never grow dim, 
their interest never flags. They are the sons of God. 
They are the great heroes of the past, of whom the 
world was not worthy. They bask in eternal sun- 
light. They exult in every victory achieved by the 
Christian soldier, in every prize won by the Chris- 
tian racer. They are looking upon us, my brethren. 
Let us feel their presence. Let us rise to the 
height of this truth that the noblest and the best 



The Cloud of Witnesses. 231 

are our witnesses. They strike their harps. They 
wave their palms. They bend over and call upon us 
to run well in this race. Take them in which light 
we may, whether as witnesses to eternal truth or as 
witnesses to our every step in the race, they should 
stimulate iis to the greatest activity and the most 
persevering patience. Eecently the people of the 
North and East were deeply excited over the regatta 
and the contest of skill and energy between the rep- 
resentatives of the different colleges in the great boat- 
race. They lined the shore. They gathered on 
slopes and crags. They sought favorable positions 
to see. They encouraged the young and stalwart 
sailors in this contest for supremacy. Who can 
doubt that the presence of these witnesses added 
much to the efforts of these young men who felt that 
to them in some sense was committed the glory of 
the institutions they represented. As they would 
make a skillful stroke and exhibit tact and perse- 
verance, muscle and energy, the very welkin was 
made to ring with the shouts of the witnesses that 
hung like a cload upon the beach. Then, as the con- 
test grew warmer and the goal was approached, 
louder than the waves rose shouts of rejoicing friends. 
So, my brethren, do the witnesses of our race look 
and beckon, and wave their palms and raise their 
shouts of encouragement. Life is a voyage, and we 
are in a great boat-race for the other shore. Angels 
and men, heroes and saints are looking on. Ply all 
the energy that God has given you, and pray for the 
gale. Blow, O winds of heaven, and waft you on 
to everlasting life! Life is a battle. The hosts of 
God are in the conflict. Disembodied spirits are 



232 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

looking to the issues. The prize for which we fight 
is truth and life. Fight for the right. Contend for 
the truth. Battle for a crown. Eesist the foe, and 
he will flee. Oppose his march, and you will place 
him beneath your feet. And when the enemy is 
routed, and victory perches upon our glorious ban- 
ner, such a shout from all the hosts above as never 
before startled the world from its repose will break 
upon the ears of the victors. Life is a race. A 
cloud of witnesses gathers around us. They know 
the dangers that beset and the weariness that afflicts. 
They have run the race and gained the prize. They 
are our elder brethren. They feel a gush of holy 
sympathy as they see us in the race. By smiles 
and tears, by words and looks, by songs and shouts, 
they say: "Run on until the goal is reached and the 
victory is gained." My brethren, let us win. The 
fathers and mothers that have gone up with a shout 
send down words of encouragement to us all. Jesus 
stands and offers a prize which all may win. He 
w^on it for us, and we must not forfeit it by lethargy; 
we must not lose it by inactivity. A living energy 
must penetrate our minds and move our wills, must 
quicken our faith and enliven our prayers, must put 
to flight our fears and rally the hosts of Israel. Fi- 
nally, we are to be encouraged by the joy before us, 
just as Jesus was. In this race we may win, and 
surely this great truth will encourage us in the work 
before us. Let us look for a moment at the fearful 
issues of this race. To lose it is to forfeit heaven. 
It is to lose a crown and a kingdom; it is to forfeit 
all that is embraced in eternal life. The loss of the 
soul is involved in losing this race. We forfeit all 



The Cloud of Witnesses, 233 

the beatitudes which Jesus pronounced in his Ser- 
mon on the Mount. We forfeit the joys which Paul 
beheld when he was carried to the third heaven. 
We forfeit all the beatific visions which shone out 
in ineffable brightness upon the view of the beloved 
disciple in the lonely Isle of Patmos. Let not these 
rewards of the righteous be lost. Let not those gifts 
which are exceeding above all that we can ask or 
think be reserved for us in vain. Let not the rich 
and abundant flow of redeeming love be poured out 
in vain for us. It is a solemn duty to run this race. 
Crowns of incalculable cost are held out to us and 
are offered as the rewards of a faithful race. The 
racers among the Greeks exerted every nerve and 
put forth every possible effort to reach and wear a 
crown that faded in a few days. Shall we consider 
it irksome to strive for a crown that shall never lose 
its luster, whose splendor shall continue undimin- 
ished through the roll of eternal years? Eeason, 
self-interest, expediency, duty, conscience, all — all call 
upon us to so run as to obtain, to so strive that we 
enter and take the prize. And what a prize it will 
be ! Culture the purest and best, and joys the sweetest 
and most permanent, honors the highest, and riches 
the most abundant — these be the rewards that shall 
meet us at the end of the race. Urge on your rapid 
course. Look to the glittering prize. Lay hold on 
Eternal Life. 



XXVII. 
THE GOOD FIGHT,* 



" Fight the good fight of faith." (1 Timothy vi. 12.) 

AS this sermon is especially to young soldiers, we 
shall give it the military feature. Taking the 
ideas common to military life, and raising them to a 
higher sphere, we shall endeavor thereby to set forth 
the loftier heroism of the true soldier of Christ. 

And be assured that the life of the soldier is not 
incompatible with a true Christ-life. The mighty 
men of war have been the mighty men of God. Be- 
ginning with Abraham, and passing down by Joshua 
and David and Cornelius, even to later heroes, Wash- 
ington, Polk, Lee, and the immortal Jackson, you 
will find the mighty martial spirits have been also 
the heroes of the cross. The fact, therefore, that a 
man is a soldier is no reason why he may not be a 
Christian. Let us note the elements in a true sol- 
dierhood. 

1. Patriotism is the first element. This is the basic 
principle in a true soldier. He must have a love for 
his country; that is paramount to all things else. He 
must appreciate his country to that extent that led 
him to place every thing secondary to its welfare. 
His patriotism must be such that when all the joys 

*A special sermon preached to the members of the Atlanta 
Rifles, at First Methodist Church, Jan. 23, 1890. 
(234) 



The Good Fight 235 



of life and the tender ties of home and family are 
balanced against his country's call; there is no de- 
bate. But an immediate resolute parting with all 
to respond to her demand. 

2. He must make a self-surrender. The true soldier 
makes an entire surrender and sacrifice of himself to 
his country's cause. He surrenders his liberty and 
his will for the time. He puts himself into the hands 
of stern authority, to be used, ordered, commanded, 
thrust into danger, handled in any way that he can 
be used for his country's good. The true soldier is 
automatic. He is an implement. He has no will. 
He is all merged into the will of his commander. 

3. Obedience implicit. The man who is self-willed 
and disinclined to obey authority can never be a true 
soldier. His obedience must be like that of the serv- 
ant of Tiberius who, when asked if he had been or- 
dered to burn the capital whether he would have 
done it, replied, "Tiberius would never have given 
such an order; but if he had, I should have obeyed, 
for Tiberius never would have given such an order 
but for the good of the Roman people." 

4. Power of endurance. Hardship is a prominent 
element in a military life. The man who is epicu- 
rean or luxurious in his habits must needs renounce 
these before he volunteers, for military life is dis- 
tinctive for its hardness. Exposure to all weather, 
long marches, forced marches, weary nights on the 
picket's beat, exhaustion from the heat of battle, 
wearisome confinement from wounds, hard and scant 
fare, thirst, and sometimes days of starvation — these 
make up the hardness of a soldier's life. 

5. Courage. Added to these must be a dauntless 



236 Arrows from Two Qwivers, 

courage. That calm, self-possessed and heroic fear- 
lessness that meets the advancing foe with an unex- 
cited nerve; and bears itself in face of danger as 
though it knew not what danger meant. These are 
some of the elements of soldierhood. 

6. Patriotism, The ideas named, when taken np 
into the highest ranges of being, give us the teach- 
ing of the text. There is a patriotism whereby a 
man estimates his soul, and the royal franchise vouch- 
safed unto him through the economy of grace, even 
as he estimates his country and his citizenship. And 
the highest type of manhood is that which places the 
highest estimate upon the highest prerogative. The 
man wdio has the exalted rights of citizenship and 
fails to appreciate them; the man who sells his suf- 
frage or is restrained from using it by mercenary 
motives; the man unwilling to sacrifice for his own 
or his country's honor — he is the man who is ranked 
low in the scale of manhood. He is unworthy the 
heritage left him by those who freed his country and 
purchased its liberty and bequeathed it to him. 

And no man approximates highest manhood who 
is destitute of the higher patriotism. If he be living 
in sin, in neglect and disregard of his moral duty 
and privilege. If he fail to appreciate and appropri- 
ate what Christ has done for him; if his aspiration 
fail to reach up and out beyond the things that per- 
ish, then is it clear that "he is of the earth, earthy?" 
His earthliness puts him far below the plane of per^ 
feet manhood. 

7. Patriotism is supreme love of coiiniry. And the 
man is a patriot of the higher order when he comes 
to love God and his own soul supremely. To count 



• o 



The Good Fight 237 



all things but loss for the excellency of the knowl- 
edge of Christ. Like the hero who leaves home and 
loved ones, luxury and ease, for the hardships of the 
camp and the campaign, so the hero of the cross is 
ready to lay down all to follow Christ, let that all bo 
much or little, whether the fortune of Zaccheus or 
the fish-nets of Peter. Let a man come to estimate 
his soul as God estimates it. God accounts it worth 
the work of redemption, worth all the investment 
of infinite love, worth the life of his only Son, 
worth the expenditure of his heart's blood upon the 
cross. Let me admonish you, young gentlemen, 
work out, as life's first and greatest problem, the sal- 
vation of your soul. You will figure on the worth of 
your time and your money and your services; but 
work the soul problem first. Come with me to Cal- 
vary's solemn precincts, take hold of that Parthian 
spear wet with blood, yet warm with innocent life, and 
with its dripping point, as you stand by the crucified 
form, work out the problem on the hoary rocks at 
your feet and tell me the solution. Tell me the 
worth of your soul. Linger about Golgotha until 
you get the correct solution. Then base your life- 
work upon this, and life shall be a grand success. 

8. Self-surrender. This must be as complete as 
that of the soldier. There is a homely adage that 
"a soldier's duty is to eat his rations and obey his 
orders." This is the sum of a Christian's duty. 
Take what God sends and do what God orders. 
There may come, and there will come, places in the 
life-march you cannot understand. You may won- 
der why j^ou are marched and countermarched 
through some bitter places. You are not expected 



238 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

to know why, but only to marcli as directed. I re- 
member a hard three days' march in the mud and 
rain, and on the fourth morning we were ordered to 
countermarch; and after six days' hard marching we 
found ourselves a few miles from where we started. 
But we found out what it meant when we got back, 
for we met the enemy at that point, and multitudes 
of our noble fellows ended the life-march there. 
Some of us will never know why we passed some of 
life's trials until we get to the life eternal. 

9. Obedience and endurance. It is no very hard 
thing to be a soldier if it were all dress parade and 
no hard marching and fighting. A soldier's life is 
an easy life in time of peace. The Atlanta Rifles will 
have a good time while they have the experience of 
the present — no excitement except an occasional 
"fair," picnic, or meet at the Cumberland Island. 
But if the war-cloud should thicken over us, and the 
order came to march to the front, then you would 
have a test of your patriotism. 

Soldierhood in the highest sense doesn't mean fairs 
and picnics and pleasures, but constant conflict. It 
means self -conflict, conflict with evil influences, con- 
flict with sin and Satan. There is hardly a day in 
the Christian life when there is not skirmishing on 
some line. The hard and decisive battles may not 
be many, but the skirmishes will be endless. I saw 
one year of service, and while the great battles of 
that year might almost be counted upon the fingers, 
yet the skirmishing was a daily thing. So, young 
gentlemen, you will find in life's campaign a few tre- 
mendous conflicts. There will be an occasional point 
where the enemy will seem to have massed his forces, 



The Good Fight. 239 



and then you will have a trial and test of your pow- 
ers that will mark an epoch in your life and will 
never be forgotten. But the " Bull Buns " and " Get- 
tysburgs " and " Fort Donelsons " will be few, while 
there will be daily picket-firing and fighting on a 
smaller scale. The devil's scouts will be on your 
life-track, and his sharpshooting will surprise you 
from ambush; there will be harassing from unex- 
pected directions, insomuch that you will be no day 
without danger. 

10. Courage. Moral courage is an element as need- 
ful in life as physical courage in a campaign. What- 
ever may be the soldier's qualifications, without this 
he is a failure. Homer gives us an inimitable pict- 
ure of the lack of courage in the person of Paris. 
He had every other qualification in their highest de- 
velopment. 

Now, host to host, in Illium's van 

The godUke Paris shone ; a leopard's skin 

Adorned his shoulder that sustained besides 

His falchion and his bow ; two spears he shook 

With glittering points, and challenged to contend 

In arms with the boldest of the Greeks. 

Him soon as warlike Menelaus saw 

Striding before his host, such joy he felt 

As feels the lion lighting in his range 

On some huge carcass, antlered stagg or goat 

By famine urged, nor hounds nor hunter's aught 

He fear, but rends it in the sight of all. 

So Menelaus in his soul rejoiced 

At sight of Paris ; vengeance in his heart 

And in his hopes, all armed at once he left 

His chariot with a leap, and trod the plain. 

Heart struck by conscience, Paris, at the sight 

Of Menelaus, shrank into his host. 

There seekino: refu<]:c from the fate he feared. 



240 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

As one descrying in the woodland heights 

A dreadful serpent, at the sight recoils, 

His limbs quake under him, his ruddy cheeks 

Turn deadly pale, he flies, he disappears, 

So godlike Paris, at the dreaded siglit 

Of Menelaus, plunged into his ranks, 

And vanished, lost amid the crowds of Troy. 

Paris had the might, the strength, the drill, the 
build, the bearing; every thing save the dauntless 
courage. But lacking this all else vras useless. 

Thus in the battle of life you may have all that 
nature and culture and art can give, and yet without 
moral courage you will meet your enemies as Paris 
met his, only to retreat in shame. 

When the enemy comes in the form of a friend 
and proposes a social drink; or, when hard pressed 
and on meager wages, the enemy suggests a quick 
relief by gambling chances, or by a petty, false en- 
try; or when that enemy comes in the wdnsome form 
and words of her whose steps take hold on hell — at 
such hours you will need more than the exterior of a 
Paris. You will need th^ heart of a Hector, the 
dauntless courage of Achilles, or else you fall. 

11. Your ally. Your safest ally is the living God. 
At such hours of supreme peril you are safest when 
you are conscious of an unseen power with you: that 
presence which was with Joseph in the tragic juncture 
when his destiny hung upon a moment; that presence 
that was with Daniel when, dogged by the watchers, he 
kneeled before his open window and worshiped to- 
ward Jerusalem. Remember, young gentlemen, that 
the mighty drafts made by Joseph and Daniel and 
Joshua and all the heroes of time have not affected the 
national bank of divine grace. Its assets are as vast 



The Good Fight 241 



to-day as when Abel drew on it first, and they are all 
yours. 

12. The noblest conquest Plato says that "self-con- 
quest is the grandest victory." You will not find 
your most formidable enemy to be a foreign one. 
You will have no seas to sail or continents to cross to 
meet that foe. But in a moral conflict "a man's foes 
are those of his own household." The most subtle 
and dangerous enemies are in our own nature, and 
the grandest victories are victories over self. 

" He that ruleth his own spirit is greater than he 
that taketh a city." Men like Alexander have con- 
quered cities, and then fallen self -conquered after all. 
" He that ruleth his own spirit and keepeth his body 
under," he is victor in the realm of highest chival- 
ry. The body is the vehicle in which the man lives 
and moves. It is the animal on which God has 
mounted the nobler man. And the double duty of 
God's cavaliers is to rightly rein the body, and 
wisely rule the spirit. Christianity is not the destruc- 
tion of any part of nature, but it is the regulation 
and right rule of every part. The divine law is that 
the animal shall serve the man. "The body is to 
be kept under," and the man always mounted. A 
strong, sound, and robust frame is a blessing. It is 
to be estimated, cared for, and rightly used, and 
yet only used for the service of the nobler man — not 
to be kept, as I have seen a Kentuckian keep his 
blooded horse, as a sort of equine idol, to be pam- 
pered and groomed and worshiped as worthy of all 
thought and devotion. There are men out of whom if 
the horse-thought and horse-devotion were taken 
would be mere hulls with no substance left. There are 
16 



242 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

those whose aims and aspirations are confined to the 
material. What shall we eat ? What shall we drink ? 
Wherewithal shall we be clothed? Their thought is 
body-thonght, earth-thought, money-thought, thought 
of earthly ease. 

13. The soul's right and realm. Though indebted 
to his majesty, king of England, and recognizing 
that debt, yet our forefathers recognized also that 
God had ordained them a better heritage than service 
to the English crown. Hence they entered the strug- 
gle for that better heritage, and through the strug- 
gle came up into the broader realm of republican 
freedom. The soul should recognize its obligations 
to the body, yet claim a heritage better than mere 
vassalage to that body. It should throw off the 
earth yoke and strike for that higher freedom which 
is its god-designed heritage. 

The soul of man is made to walk the skies, 

To crop the roses of immortal youth, 

To drink the fountain-head of sacred truth ; 

To strike the string and lift its voice to heaven's eternal King. 

To spend eternity in grateful lays, 

And fill heaven's wide circumference with praise. 

While the body looks down and searches the ground 
for its delights the soul, like the astronomer, culls 
treasures among the stars. Like the caged bird that 
yet remembers its fellows in the forest of green leaves, 
and in summer days hears snatches of song from far- 
off fields, and yearns with all its little life for that 
liberty which it has never found, and for those songs 
it would have sung but for its captivity. 

" An eagle was taken from the nest upon a mount- 
ain ledge, brought home and reared amid the do- 



The Good Fight 243 



mestic fowls. As he grew, lie grew apart from them, 
and sat moody in silent dignity. When on a sum- 
mer's day the wild screaming of the hawk sent every 
fowl in the yard flying and cowering to shelter, he, 
with flashing eye and discordant scream, reared him- 
self and tried to fly, but alas ! he could not, his wings 
w^ere clipped. He fell sick; would have died if he 
could. They let him alone. Like Samson's locks, 
his pinions grew again. They forgot him. He did 
not forget. His nature told him the sky was his. 
And one neglectful summer day, when all were doz- 
ing, from afar off in the sky, so far that none could 
see, or see only a floating speck, thence came down a 
cry so faint that no ear might hear — none but an ea- 
gle's. Then, with sudden force, all his life beating 
in his breast, he sprung up. Away from the yard, the 
fowls, his owners, over the rick and over the barn, 
over the trees and over the hills, round and round in 
growing circles, beaten with growing power of wing, 
the freed eagle sought his fellow and found his lib- 
erty right under the sun." 

So to the soul, captive in sin, amid material, earthly 
things, like the eagle amid the barn-yard fowls, there 
come elevated moments, faint, sweet voices from 
above, upward impulses, that make you to forget your 
surroundings. These are the divine notes calling to 
higher freedom. These are the vows when the soul 
responding with all its powers may rise and be free. 
This is freedom I would have you claim. 

14 It is a fight of faith. Faith is the power to ac- 
cept and act upon unseen truth as though it were 
seen. It is the "evidence of things not seen." It 
accepts not the things true to the eye, ear, or hand, 



244 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

but true to the thoughts, the feeling, the imagina- 
tion, the brighter nature. This faith, after all, is 
the backbone and mainspring of practical life. The 
man who believes nothing will do nothing. The 
farmer sees no bud, hears no bird-note, nor least in- 
dication of a growing time. But he believes in the 
working of nature's laws, and hence he prepares and 
plows as though he saw the spring-time. So with 
the trading ships that cross the deep. So with the 
toilers of earth that go to and from their daily tasks. 
Thus you are to fight, the life-battle not with car- 
nal weapons, not with eye and arm and hand; but 
with the higher members. The thought, feelings, im- 
agination, affection. You are to lay hold on things 
true to them, the things which they demand. You 
are to fight against and overcome the sensuous and 
sensual things that debase and enslave them. And 
sometimes when the battle is sore, and you feel fear 
of defeat, remember the "Black Prince" at the battle 
of Cressy. He was a young man of eighteen, fit for a 
member of your ranks, but he led the van in that 
battle. His father drew up a strong force on a hill 
in full view, and stood ready to send relief should 
his son need it. The young prince, being sharply 
charged and in some danger, sent to his father for 
succor; and, as the king delayed, another message 
was sent to crave immediate assistance. The king 
replied: "Go tell my son that I am not so inexperi- 
enced a commander as not to know when aid is 
needed, nor so careless a father as not to send it." 
He intended his son to have the honor of the day. 
Sublime picture! The king on the hill, in the midst 
of his strong reserves, watching the prince in the 



The Good Fight 245 



battle. The King of kings sits in his omnipotence, 
in the midst of his invisible hosts, watching each 
battling child of his in this earth valley. Ask these 
old warriors, and they will tell you: "When I was at 
the point of giving up in a fearful conflict, just then 
I felt a strange new strength, an unseen presence, as 
if a being invisible touched and made me strong. 

15. DonH wait to he conscripted, A conscript may 
become valiant and do noble service for his country, 
but he ever has a sense of wounded manhood because 
compelled into the ranks. Misfortune, disease, be- 
reavement, old age; these are God's conscript officers, 
ever drafting mei^ into his service who have declined 
to volunteer. How many wait to be conscripted, 
wait until compelled into God's service, and thus 
lose the joy and the honor of giving to the King a 
voluntary service! 

As you have the honor of being volunteers in the 
ranks of the "Atlanta Eifles," as your unworthy 
chaplain I adjure you enlist in the higher ranks for 
a nobler warfare. And may God make you victors 
in every conflict until the campaign shall close — un- 
til your company, war-worn and battle-scarred, yet 
covered with glory, shall come to the eternal city, and 
there stack arms under the shade of the walls, and 
enter in through the gates to be crowned and scep- 
tered conquerors and rulers for eternity. 

M. 



XXVIIK 

CONFLICT OF GREAT PRINCIPLES. 



"And I saw the beast, and the kings of the earth, and their 
armies, gathered together to make war against him tliat sat on 
the horse, and against his army." (Revelation xix. 19.) 

THE conflict of great principles has been going 
on since the creation of man. It is a fearful 
contest, involving the deepest interests of the human 
race. No human being can sit quietly and say that it 
is no concern of his. There can be no neutrality 
among rational beings. Admit it or not, we are in 
for the fight, and there is no discharge in this war. 

Let us then, on this our Conference Sabbath of the 
year 1886, survey the field, investigate the claims of 
our leaders, make an examination as to the great 
principles involved, and determine our own relations 
to the contending hosts. 

On the one side we behold the beast and the kings 
of the earth, and on the other we see the Faithful and 
True on the white horse. The beast represents all 
bad principles. The Faithful and True represents all 
good principles. 

It is no pleasant duty to describe him who in the 
text is called the beast and who is the representative 
of total depravity. He is represented by various 
names in the Bible, all of which indicate the black- 
ness of his character and his utter destitution of ev- 
ery noble principle. He is cunning without wisdom, 
(246) 



Conflict of Great Principles. 247 

plausible without reason, seductive without one real 
charm, deceitful beyond measure, and cruel without 
mitigation or the least element of mercy. He is 
bold, defiant, energetic, and crafty to the last degree. 
Base in his aims, unholy in all his purposes, depraved 
in every faculty, he well deserves the name of beast. 
He is indeed a roaring lion, seeking whom he may 
destroy. He thirsts for human souls. His eagerness 
to destroy is equaled only by the utter corruption of 
a nature from which all purity has been banished. 
Lost to virtue and to hope, to truth and generosity, 
he is constantly seeking some new victim, and would^ 
if he could, drag the infinite One from his eternal 
throne. His effrontery defies all rivalry and dis- 
tances all human efforts in that direction. With him 
truth is without attraction, and he deservedly receives 
the well-applied epithet, " father of lies. " A very Pro- 
teus, he will assume all shapes and for the time trans- 
form himself into an angel of light to accomplish his 
base designs. He accomplishes the ruin of the unwa- 
ry, with a satisfaction at once inexplicable and most 
detestable. He gloats over innocence destroyed, and 
misery accomplished. The wails of eternal anguish 
are to him the sweetest, softest strains of music. The 
blackness of his character has no relief, while the 
hopelessness of his misery is unmitigated by the in- 
creased number of his wretched victims. He is the 
leader of the hosts of darkness. He seeks to estab- 
lish error and perpetuate crime. Violence and fraud, 
poverty and shame, hypocrisy and deception, are the 
means by which he accomplishes his nefarious and 
cruel purposes. His followers are like him. They are 
represented in the text as "kings of the earth." By 



248 Arroivs from Two Quivers. 

this is meant that the men of power and influence — 
of so much power and influence as to be called 
kings — are his willing emissaries, his devoted fol- 
lowers. 

It is a sad fact in the history of the human race 
that so many of those who have sought and obtained 
distinction among men have been fighting under the 
dark banner of the beast. The Herods and the Pi- 
lates, the Neroes and the Domitians, have been ene- 
mies of God and the foes of their race. So it has 
been with many upon whose heads have rested regal 
crowns. Leaders, too, in literature, in science, in 
philosophy, and even in religion, have been the fol- 
lowers of the beast, and have arrayed themselves un- 
der a banner dark as hell, cruel as death, and as 
gloomy as the grave. 

On the other side the troops are Jed by Faithful 
and True on his white horse. The horse represents 
strength and swiftness, and white represents purity. 
I beg that you will not merely look, but fix your gaze 
upon our great Leader. He is faithful and true. 
Truth is the girdle of his loins. Righteousness is 
the girdle of his reins. True is not sufficiently strong 
to express his perfect character. He is truth itself. 
He embodies it; he exhibits it; he personates it. 
The portrait of truth is his likeness, and fidelity marks 
all his actions. He is truth in its essence, in its 
beauty, and in its power. He is truth unalloyed, un- 
soiled, immutable, eternal. There is in him no mixt- 
ure of evil, no defilement of sin, no likeness to injus- 
tice or cruelty. He is the Alpha and the Omega in 
truth, the highest and grandest of which the mind 
can form the least conception. Then he is purity 



Conflict of Great Principles. 249 

without spot. Omnipotence expresses his power, and 
light or electricity in their inconceivable swiftness 
give some idea of the rapidity of his movements. 
His eyes are as a flame of fire. This figure repre- 
sents his all-piercing knowledge. He knoweth all 
things. The darkness to him is as the light. His 
knowledge penetrates to the very depths of outer 
darkness. It comprehends the great and minute, 
the distant and the near, the past, present, and fut- 
ure, and nothing can be concealed from him. He has 
on his head many crowns. He is the king universal. 
He rules creation. He guides providence. He ac- 
complishes redemption. He is king of men and of 
angels. His right to rule* is without a flaw. All 
worlds should crown him and all voices proclaim him 
"Lord of all, King of kings, and Lord of lords." 

He is clothed with a vesture dipped in blood. 
This vesture puts him before us in his character as 
the world's Redeemer. His blood atones for all our 
race and stains all his raiment. Blood is the sign of 
cleansing, and its being shed for others is evidence of 
deepest love. His bloody vesture indicates suffering, 
love, cleansing, salvation through Jesus Christ. Re- 
deemer of men, the God-man, the world's hope, the 
grandest expression of love and power, of truth and 
fidelity, of suffering and patience, of justice and 
mercy — this alone ought to unite all men on the side 
of Christ to fight, and to die if need be, for him and 
his holy cause. 

His name is the Word of God. He is the incarnate 
Word — the divine Logos in human form. Mysteri- 
ous, indefinable beyond all conception, good, loving, 
and true, the great Captain-general of our salvation 



250 Arrows from Two Quivers. 



appeals to every high and noble principle, and thus 
calls upon all men to enlist for him and under him to 
do battle for the right. Out of his mouth goeth a 
sharp sword, that with it he shall smite the nations. 
The word of God is the sword which the Spirit 
wields. It is sharp, well-tempered, tried, and true. 
This sword of the Spirit— this keen Damascus blade 
— cuts even to the dividing asunder of the sinner and 
his sins, of the joints and marrow. This two-edged 
sword is to smite the nations and to bring them as 
willing subjects to him clothed in a vesture dipped 
in blood. 

Again is his character as Eedeemer brought to 
light. He treadeth the wine-press of the fierceness 
and wrath of Almighty God. Isaiah describes him 
as treading the wine-press alone, and of all the people 
there were none with him. As our Redeemer, he 
fights the powers of darkness and conquers when ho 
seems to be defeated. 

Then his followers in this great battle are clothed 
in linen, white and clean. Pure and strong, these 
are the soldiers of Christ. With principles lofty, 
strong, pure, these soldiers follow the greatest of 
Captains to the conquest of the world. Their monu- 
ments indicate their aggressive character. The Jew- 
ish Church was stationary, the Christian Church is 
progressive. For two thousand years and more the 
Jewish Church stood as a great light-house, silently 
ofiPering a refuge within its ample walls to the wan- 
derers in life's wilderness. For nearly that time the 
Christian Church has moved forward like a conquer- 
ing army, with banners flying, and offering protection 
to all that would allow her broad folds to float over 



Conflict of Great Principles. 251 

them. To-day the war rages. To-day the battle- 
flags float around the globe. The great Captain is 
still upon his white horse, unworn by time, active 
and strong, and making strides and accomplishing 
conquests never accomplished before. Would that 
we could ascend some dizzy height and see these 
mighty hosts urging on the battle in hoary Asia, on 
the Dark Continent, in refined EurojDC, over all the 
New World, and among the isles of the sea. With 
eyes as a flame of fire, he surveys the field, and with 
tongues of flame and the voice of a trumpet he gives his 
command. His officers and men are well in hand. He 
has generals and lieutenants all over the continents 
and islands, and his soldiers are encouraged as never 
before in the history of the world. Truth is omnipo- 
tent; love is mighty; justice unconquerable; purity 
is immortal; faith is radiant; hope is courageous. 
These are the great principles which keep the mighty 
army in motion and which assure of victory. 

But our position must be higher than the loftiest 
elevations upon the earth. Let us in imagination 
take our position with the angel in the sun. He calls 
to all living beings, to men and angels, to birds and 
beasts, and proclaims the great battle of Armaged- 
don fought and won. Long and terrible h as been the 
conflict and glorious has been the victory. It is only 
from the sun as the earth revolves around it that the 
witnessing angel could have seen and proclaimed the 
triumph of truth over falsehood and holiness over 
sin. The beast is conquered. The King of kings is 
victorious. As the sun sheds its radiance around the 
world, look and see. Eight and might are on the 
same side, and a victory which thrills the universe 



252 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

with joy is proclaimed. I see the last struggle. It 
is going on now. Infidelity has yielded almost uni- 
versally to the power of truth. The sword of the 
Spirit has conquered the nations. The Bible, the 
blessed Bible, is triumphant. The forces of the ene- 
my are dispirited, battered, bruised, and overcome. 

R. 



XXIX. 

TRUE LIBERTY. 



" If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free in- 
deed." (John viu. 36.) 

PEEFECT freedom is essential to complete hap- 
piness. The love of it is inherent in man's nat- 
ure. To be, in the highest sense, is to be free. God 
made man free; and while he stood as God's freeman, 
he filled the measure of perfect manhood. 

Sin reduced, degraded, enslaved him, and his histo- 
ry since has been the slave's history. The gospel is 
the proclamation of emancipation. The Son of God, 
the divine Moses, leading the race up from ruin, and 
the militant Church, in her march, is the long-lost 
Israel struggling back and up to original freedom; 
and the text is the assurance, " If the Son shall make 
you free, ye shall be free indeed." 

1. What is liberty? Men falsely define it when they 
make it to mean doing one's own will. There is a 
great first principle underlying it, and liberty can't 
exist outside of this principle. Liberty has its basis 
in morals. It is founded in the oughtness of things. 
The first great principle of right being the founda- 
tion, the man must come into rapport with the right, 
insomuch as to have a mind to do what he ought to 
do. He must bring himself up to this key-note of 

(253) 



254 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

onglit. And the exercise o£ this right mind and the 
doing right — this is liberty. Liberty is the right to 
do right. 

God himself is in this liberty. This is " liberty of 
God." He reigns not only in the nniverse, bnt he 
reigns within himself; that is, he holds himself in 
his essential being and nature to this first principle 
of right. His eternal and tinoriginated freedom 
rests on this, and true liberty is the living as God 
lives — doing that which a man onght to do. The 
key-note of onghtness is the scepter with which God 
rnles. We are " free indeed " when we come up to 
grasp it and live and rule with him. The man who 
is living as he ought to live is a co-ruler with God. 
He is a power leagued with God, making men better 
and holding the moral forces in balance. A grand 
trunk rail-line stretches from New York to the Gold- 
en Gate. That line ascends mountains, sweeps val- 
leys, spans rivers, threads tunnels, borders canyons, 
and crosses every manner of territory. But no train 
— passenger, freight, accommodation, construction, 
or hand-car — makes that run, except according to the 
iron track. They must make every rise and fall and 
curve and turn made by the iron rails beneath; and 
to leave the track is to wreck. Law is the grand 
trunk line through this life to the celestial city, and 
each man may engineer his life-train successfully so 
long as he holds to the law-track. But to leave this 
is to wreck. This has wrought the wrecks which 
make earth sad and hell populous. Men trying to 
run the life-train independently of the divine law- 
track — that track whose road-bed is the eternal Rock, 
whose cross-ties are the promises of God, firm as his 



True Liberty. 255 



tlirone, and whose rails are of burnished steel, forged 
in the white fires of eternal love. 

Again, a man can't have liberty but by law. He 
is free in proportion as he is in harmony and obedi- 
ence to law. Laws are made for men — not to use 
men, but for men to use — the invisible horses on 
which men are to override obstacles and ascend to 
success. 

See that cavalier — mounted, firmly seated, rein in 
hand, steed under control, ready for battle or for 
flight, prepared to go at will. He is free. But his 
companion is unhorsed, disarmed, a prisoner — no 
power to fight or fly; he is captive and a slave. The 
man struggling against law is the dismounted cavalier. 
His passions, his earthliness, his sins, have unhorsed 
him. I see God's cavaliers unhorsed by the devils of 
mammon, lust, and rum, and their captivity is shame- 
ful and their struggles piteous. But the man living 
in conformity to law, he is the invincible knight of 
the cross, " riding gloriously forth, conquering and 
to conquer." 

All freedom is on the same basis. A man has 
physical freedom on this principle. He has no right 
to eat what he pleases until he first find what is good 
for him, and then choose to eat what he ought to eat. 
There is this law of oughtness in his digestion, and he 
has to do his eating according to that law. He may 
eat what he pleases, and as much as he pleases, re- 
gardless of whether he ought or not, but the ought- 
ness of the question will come up afterward. He will 
rue his recklessness, and require some medical engi- 
neering to get him back on the health- track where he 
may be free again. 



256 Arroimfrom Two Quivers. 



Civil freedom is on the same basis. I am free, as a 
citizen, to do any thing and every thing I ought to do. 
There isn't a fetter on my limbs or liberties so long 
as I keep the civil law-track. But let me get off the 
track, and knock down one man, and stab another, 
and smash in a few windows, and I will land np in 
the jail or the chain-gang, with my liberties reduced, 
and instead of doing as I please, I will do what the 
man with the shot-gun and blood-houncis may please 
for me to do. It was sin, the leaving of the divine 
law-track, that wrecked our race, and Christ is the 
great Eestorer come to clear up the wreck and place 
us back in the divine harmony. Hence, "When he 
shall make us free we shall be free indeed." 

2. Science proposes to free the physical man. But sci- 
ence can only work on the gospel plan — that is, find 
out what the law is and persuade men to keep it. 
Science is doing her part well. She has pitied hu- 
manity in its toil and drudgery, and sought to bring 
relief. She has gone with her best lights into the 
dark things of nature, sought among her silent forces 
and strange chemistries, and found out unknown 
things, and so combined materials and connected 
them with invisible forces as to secure large relief 
for the many toilers; and to-day we see steam and 
electricity and machinery in a thousand forms do- 
ing the work that once fell upon the hands of men. 
They have now but to guide these forces, and, like 
invisible but untiring slaves, they do the world's 
drudgery. 

Science has also cared for the health of humanity. 
She has discovered and made known the health laws; 
ferreted out the subtle, secret magazines of disease 



True Lihertij. 257 



and death — detected them as the "moonshiners" still 
in the mountain fastness — and made men wise to strike 
and destroy these foes. All honor to science. She 
is man's true friend. " She hath wrought a good 
work" — "hath done what she could" — but she has 
not made men even physically free. They still sick- 
en, suffer, and die. Science can't free even the lowest 
department of man's nature from that bondage into 
which sin has brought him. 

3. Ediicat ion proposes mental freedom. It comes as 
the angel to the imprisoned apostle, proposing to 
loose the chains from the mind and lead it out from 
the dungeon of ignorance, and " open the iron gates " 
before it, and give it the freedom of which sin has 
robbed it. And this angel has not been slothful or 
a failure. Chains have been broken, fetters have 
fallen, darkness has receded, while ignorance and su- 
perstition have fled from before it, as the night- wolves 
from the dawn of the morning. Education, like 
Bartholdi's statue, is lifting its light over the world 
to-day, and the poor and obscure are called to walk 
in that light. By this light our nation is ascending. 
Each succeeding generation wiser than its predeces- 
sor. The paths in which our fathers walked seem as 
threads about the mountain's base, as we look back 
from a place half way to the summit. The great 
man then was the exception and the wonder of the 
age. The man of great culture and mental power 
was a demi-god. He shone as a lone star in mid- 
skies; but the angel of education has led our people 
up until the masses begin to see the light. The cult- 
ured now are not the exception — they begin to be 
the rule. AVe hear it said in Church and State: 
17 



258 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

'' Where are the sons of Anak? AVe have no phe- 
nomenal men who stand out and alone as Saul among 
his brethren." And why? The reason is, the mul- 
titudes are brought up to a plane nearer to where the 
isolated great once stood. Men can't overtop human- 
ity now as they did in other and darker days. 

But when science and education have done their 
best — after they have brought untold light and bless- 
ing and relief — humanity is not yet free. 

There is a soul-bondage, a slavery of the moral and 
spiritual nature, which these forces cannot reach, 
and do not claim to reach. We find the princes of 
science and literature slaves of the vilest passions 
and most beastly appetites; poets who think and 
write like gods, and yet aro morally unhorsed and 
living like brutes; Alexanders in the realm of litera- 
ture, conquering worlds, and yet the slaves of their 
own appetites and lusts. Note the men in high 
places in the nation; stars of first magnitude in the 
national heavens, and how many of them go down in 
moral darkness — leaders in the world of mind; slaves 
in the world of morals. 

Ah! when science and education and all kindred 
forces have expended their power, they have but 
reached the prison-door of the royal captive. There, 
like Mary at the sepulcher, they must "stand without 
and weep" and wait until "One comes from Edom, 
with dyed garments from Bozrah, mighty to save." 
But when he shall come and make you free, you 
shall be free indeed. 

4. Christ was free. His life before men was a lifa 
of freedom. From birth to burial his life was upon 
the perfect law-track. He did only what he ought to 



True Liberty, 259 



do. Oughtness was the scepter of his power. " The 
things that capture us and bring us into bondage 
did not touch him. Love of the world, love of praise, 
the pride of the eye, and the pride of life — nothing 
moved him save as he ought to move. He was mas- 
ter of this world, while he was servant of men." 

There was no opposing element, from the subtlest 
influence of the devil up to the malignant hatred of 
men and the turbulent elements of nature, with 
which he was not in contact, and which he did not 
conquer and command. He could say, in the pro- 
foundest sense: "I have overcome the world." 

And we come into perfect freedom by coming into 
the life of Christ; by having our life united with his, 
as the branch with the vine, and being dominated by 
his spirit and his life. 

5. The rights of God' s freemen. Liberate the caged 
beast, and it returns to its native jungle, and its in- 
terests become one with its kind. Open the cage and 
let the captive bird go free, and its destiny becomes 
one and common with its tribe. 

When Christ frees the prisoner from sin and self, 
and he comes out into the liberty of God, his being is 
enlarged and he becomes, like Christ, one with hu- 
manity, and hence his rights connect with humanity. 
A man's rights are regulated by his relations, and re- 
lated, in this high sense, to humanity, he has no right 
to do aught that will endanger or hurt humanity at 
any point. Men tatk of liberty to do as they please, 
write as they please, think as they please, and vote 
as they please. Such presumption! I say it rev- 
erently, God himself has not such right, but he 
holds himself eternally to the principle of ought- 



260 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

ness, and claims no right to act save as he ought to 
act. 

There may be, and of ttimes is, such a thing as a le- 
gal right to do what is wrong. That is, I may do 
what is wrong "per se," and the civil statutes may 
sustain me. There are a thousand things I may do 
and the civil law will not arrest me, but my oneness 
with humanity, and hence my obligation to it, will 
forbid. My conscience will rise up to condemn me, 
and the pains of my suffering fellow-men will cry up 
to God if I persist in doing what is hurtful to them, 
only because I have a civil right to do it. The 
mighty questions of life and destiny are not legali- 
ties — not settled at the court-house, but at the bar of 
conscience and at the bar of God. 

I have a right (legal) to vote for the return of the 
saloons to our fair city. But I think of the hundreds 
of children in the public schools, who, while we had 
the saloons, were never but half supplied, and many 
of them poorly clad, but who without the saloons 
have ample books and clothing, with cheery hearts 
and faces and a chance in life. 

I have a right (legal) to vote back the curse, and 
when my neighbor falls, and his child, almost in in- 
fancy, goes with his papers or boot-black's box into 
the street, I may buy his paper or pay him to polish 
my boots, as a sort of mollifier to my hurting con- 
science. No, no! I will keep the curse away, and 
let my neighbor's child enjoy the comforts of a hap- 
py home, as my boy does. I will keep him from the 
hardness and ruin of the streets, as mine is kept. I 
w^ill let him have a sober father to love him as I love 
mine. 



True Liberty. 261 



Should I cast that vote for rum's return, it would 
never perish. That vote would live and come up 
against me in the day of God, the blood within it 
liquifying and oozing as crimson evidence against 
me in the judgment hour. 

Finally, it is a royal thing to be "free indeed"— 
to have a conscious superiority over every destruct- 
ive force; to know there is nothing in the universe 
can harm you; to feel that sense of omnipotence that 
commands and controls all forces. 

A grand ship is gliding the sea with the grace of 
the swan and the animation of life. A storm is gath- 
ering to swoop fiercely down upon it. The proud 
vessel leaps forward to meet and give it welcome, as 
if ready for a sport upon the seas. The waves are 
lashed and lifted until sea and sky seem merged. 
That ship ascends and descends as the waters rise 
and fall, and like the snowy gull, seems at home amid 
the waves. She rides — the laughing queen of the 
storm — and when the storm is weary and hushed she 
pursues her queenly course. That is freedom. Be- 
hold that eagle in mid-air. Beyond the storm that 
rages beneath he is in his native rest. The mad 
wind-waves but uplift him while he reigns and floats 
and careers — king of the elements. That is freedom. 
That is what it is for Christ to make the soul free. 
It is to be lifted up and leagued with God; made 
king over the elements that would wreck or destroy; 
to share with God that omnipotence that rules and 
rides every tempest, sailing grandly on to the celes- 
tial port. " If the Son shall make you free, ye shall 
be free indeed." M. 



XXX. 

WORSHIP. 



" Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness." (Psalm 
xxix. 2.) 

rr^^HE conscience is not the only faculty addressed 
-L in the Scriptures of divine truth. The reason 
and taste are also addressed. The conscience is ap- 
pealed to on all questions of truth, and the taste in 
questions of beauty. The beautiful, the true, and 
the good are all found in the Bible, and are perfectly 
suited to the different powers of the human mind. 
The reason accepts the truth, the conscience impels 
to the good, and the taste admires the beautiful. If 
a man's reason is not enlightened, his worship is de- 
graded by ignorance; if his conscience is not puri- 
fied, his worship will be licentious; and if his taste 
is not cultivated, his worship is unrefined and for- 
bidding. A striking analogy exists between con- 
science and the taste. By the conscience we judge 
and feel in reference to the right. By the taste we 
judge and feel in reference to the beautiful. If the 
conscience is cultivated without reference to the 
taste, we shall do our duty without any reference to 
the manner of doing it. If the taste is cultivated 
without reference to conscience, we devote our time to 
the ideal instead of the real, and to the beautiful in- 
(262; 



Worship. 263 



stead of the good. We ignore the good and disre- 
gard the claims of moral obligations. We admire 
poetry, painting, and eloquence, but we lose sight of 
duty. Such a character was Byron. With an impe- 
rial imagination and a refined and cultivated taste, 
he startled the world at once by the brilliancy of his 
genius and the degradation of his morals. The au- 
dacity of his wickedness was almost lost sight of 
amid the dazzling splendors of his wonderful concep- 
tions. The Bible seeks to create harmony out of the 
confusion that reigns in man's entire nature. It tells 
him to get wisdom, and lay fast hold of instruction. 
It commands him to be good, and requires of him 
implicit obedience. It urges upon him to be beauti- 
ful in his goodness. Thus conscience is called upon 
to respond to intellect, and taste to accord with con- 
science. In the text we are called upon to worship 
the Lord in the beauty of holiness. 

We desire, in the discussion of this text, to show 
first that God addresses man's taste, in order to in- 
duce holiness, and to attract us to worship him in its 
beauty. 

It is not merely through the reason and conscience 
that God addresses man. He appeals to his love of 
the beautiful. First, nature is full of beauties. 
Beauty shines in ten thousand brilliant stars that by 
night throw their splendors over the canopy of heav- 
en. It glows in the mellow radiance of the silvery 
moon. It imparts its charm to the rising morning, 
and increases with the opening day. It throws its 
attractions around the glorious king of day as he 
moves in majesty from the '^chambers of the East," 
and accompanies him as he appears ''like a bride- 



264 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

groom coming out of his chamber, and rejoices as a 
strong man to run a race. His going forth is from 
the end of the heaven, and his circuit to the ends of 
it." All along his fiery course beauty gilds his path 
and shines in all his ways. The blue vault of heaven 
by day, and the same studded by night with its glit- 
tering gems, is beautiful. The globe that we inhabit 
abounds in objects of beauty. They meet us at every 
step. They are sprinkled broadcast over the earth. 
Beauty is found in the valley and on the mountain. 
In the wild forest and in the cultivated field; in the 
dense woodland and in the broad prairie; in the plac- 
id lake and in the turbulent sea; in the cascade of 
the mountain and in the spring that gushes up at the 
base; in cliff and dell and gorge; in brooks and rivu- 
lets and rivers; in the vegetables of spring, and in 
the fruits of autumn; in the gold upon the wing of 
the butterfly, and in the rich plumage that glows upon 
the tiny form of the humming-bird; in the hue of 
the lily and in the blush of the rose; in the modesty of 
the violet and in the gaudy splendors of the dahlia; 
in the crawling reptile, in the gentle lamb; in the 
fleet fawn and in the war-horse, whose "neck is 
clothed with thunder;" in the rounding of the hill- 
top, in spreading out the veil; in forming the crystal 
dew-drops, in painting the flower, and in shaping the 
blade of grass — the all-Father has displayed the 
most exquisite taste, as well as the greatest wisdom, 
goodness, and power. Nature presents the finest 
models of beauty. These models are found in every 
crypt and corner; in the dark cavern and in the un- 
fathomable mine; they are seen basking in the sun- 
shine on the surface of the ocean, and are gathered in 



Worship. 265 



almost every form and variety from its vast depths. 
The vast profusion with which God has supplied ob- 
jects of beauty, all fitted to win the admiration of 
man, attests at once his existence and his unity. He 
that formed man with emotions so sensitive to ob- 
jects of beauty created the very objects calculated to 
exercise the emotions. Man is as certainly fitted for 
the beautiful as he is for air and food, for sunlight 
and water. And we cannot escape the conviction 
that the same one God that formed the fish for the 
sea, the bird for the air, and the reptile for the land, 
formed man for the beautiful and created the beauti- 
ful for man. He invested him with tastes to be grati- 
fied by the beautiful, and he filled the universe with 
beauty to gratify the taste. Such unity of design 
could only proceed from one infinite intelligence, the 
Eternal Eeason, the absolute God. As when we ex- 
amine an exquisite work of art the mind at once calls 
up and admires the skill of the artist, so shall we 
pass from nature's great galleries of inimitable work- 
manship to him who made them all. 

Second, we hold that God has addressed this same 
principle of human nature in his holy word. His 
word is as various as his works. It abounds in beau- 
ties such as are found in no other books. The very 
genius of poetry presided when many of its lofty pas- 
sages were conceived and recorded. The Bible was a 
sacred classic before Hesiod wrote or Homer sung. 
It was the repertory of eloquence a thousand years 
before Demosthenes startled Greece by his weird 
and wonderful genius. Its historical records carry 
us back to the beginning of the race, and throw a ra- 
diance over the dim twilight of the past, of which 



266 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

Herodotus, the great father of history among the 
Greeks, was totally ignorant. Its elegies are sadder 
than the strains of Simonides, and its pastorals are 
sweeter than those of Theocritus and more elegant and 
refined than even those of Virgil. Its sacred songs 
sweep over the soul, and attune it to the melody of heav- 
en. They arouse every passion of the heart, and touch 
every chord of human sympathy. The cries of pen- 
itence, the wail of sorrow, the tears of gratitude, the 
tenderness of love, the shouts of triumph, and the 
soft breathing of religious devotion, or the higher 
raptures of inspired fervor, are found ever and anon 
glowing in beauty along the burning lines which 
were traced in the misty ages of antiquity by the 
heaven-guided hands of the Hebrew bards. God 
could have created the world a vast plain, without 
variety in its appearance or beauty in its scenery, 
and so he could have given us his word without one 
poetic thought, eloquent utterance, or sublime con- 
ception, but he chose to impart to both all the at- 
tractions which the most vivid imagination could 
conceive, or most refined and cultivated taste admire. 
In the second place, the text teaches us that as 
God has attracted us by objects of beauty in his 
works, and by passages of beauty in his word, so we 
should give to his worship the attractions of beauty. 
We are to worship the Lord in the beauty of holi- 
ness. In the worship of God there should be noth- 
ing repulsive to a refined and cultivated taste. It 
consists of reading his holy word and expounding 
the meaning, in adoring pra^^er and songs of praise. 
The reading of the word with due solemnity, with 
clear and distinct articulation, with proper emphasis. 



Worship. 267 



and with full appreciation of its sacred character, is 
always attractive. As there is no human composi- 
tion so beautiful, so no reading should be more care- 
fully studied nor more tastefully rendered than the 
reading of the Holy Scriptures. To read the word 
of God with careless, rapid, indistinct, and unimpress- 
ive utterance is neither respectful to him, nor ac- 
ceptable to a refined audience. Then the words of 
thanksgiving, of adoration, of repentance, of conse- 
cration, and of intercession, as they are uttered in 
prayer, should be fitly chosen and most humbly and 
reverently uttered. The exposition of the truth 
should be clearly illustrative and commanding. It 
may have the graces of composition, the beauties of 
poetry, and the sublimity of the highest oratory; it 
may arouse imagination and satisfy the taste; but 
it may not depend upon any of these. The fire of 
divine oratory must be caught from the skies, and 
the spirit of the pulpit must be bathed with the 
Spirit of God. But while the minister, upon whom 
devolves this part of Divine worship, seeks the in- 
spiration of the Holy Ghost as the great means of 
his success, he is not allowed to indulge in any cant 
or vulgarity. He is not to force people to despise 
him because of his uncouth appearance, his unpol- 
ished manners, his vicious style, and his culpable 
grammar or undignified clownishness. He is to be 
neither an ignoramus nor a boor. He is not to deal 
in low epithets, vulgar, abusive, and disgusting anec- 
dotes. Pure thought should be uttered in the purest 
language. Sound arguments should be delivered in 
faultless diction, and appeals to the passions should 
be made in language the most expressive and the 



26S Arrows from Two Quivers. 

most toucliing. Let the pulpit, tlien, have all the 
charms that innocence and love, pnrity and wisdom, 
truth and charity, eloquence and learning, all the 
power that inspired themes filling an inspired soul 
can impart to it. Then we must praise the Lord. 
Sacred songs have always constituted a most attract- 
ive part of Divine worship. O come, let us sing 
unto the Lord. With or without the organ, as may 
suit the taste, let us sing unto the Lord and make 
melody in our hearts. Let us praise his holy name. 
I have no quarrel with the organ. I like it. It is a 
grand instrument. It is peculiarly adapted to sacred 
song. It has long been consecrated to the worship 
of the King in his beauty. It has stood in the tem- 
ple of God for ages, and has sent out its solemn peals 
in unison with the chorus of human voices to the 
praise of his glory. I would not close the organ. It 
has stood in kingly majesty for centuries, leading in 
the grandest refrains and in the most majestic dia- 
pasons that ever went up from the temple below to 
the throne on' high. Let it stand, my brethren. Let 
it stand to elevate our conceptions of the symphony 
of heaven. Let it give out its great notes, its grand 
swells, its sublime tones, until we shall almost hear 
the answering peal as it comes from harps and cym- 
bals in heaven. But let us not worship the organ. 
It is but an instrument — a human instrument. It 
must serve us and honor God, and add to the beauty 
of his worship. It must not deprive us of the pleas- 
ure of sacred song. It should be a help anl not a 
hinderance to his worship. So should be the choir. 
Rarely, very rarely, should tunes be sung in which 
the worshipers cannot all engage. Singing is a part 



Worship. 269 



of Divine worship, and a very important part, and 
should be so directed as that all who can should 
unite in it. 

In the third place, we are taught that the principal 
beauty of the worship of God is the beauty of holi- 
ness. It is not in the beauty of gorgeous vestments, 
but in garments made white in the blood of the 
Lamb. It is not the beauty of a magnificent ritual 
and of imposing ceremonies, but in the beauty of 
holiness. It conforms to the image of God, and is 
therefore beautiful. In holiness there is nothing 
disgusting, nothing repulsive. It is sin that deforms, 
holiness beautifies. Sin degrades, holiness elevates. 
Sin brings death, holiness imparts life. Sin confuses 
and produces the wildest disorder, holiness regulates 
and produces perfect harmony. Sin makes the pas- 
sions wild and fierce, holiness quiets their disorder 
and subdues them to peace. Holiness is the only 
patent to true nobility, and is the sign and seal of 
the heirs of God. If we consider it as simple, it 
makes the whole character shine with celestial light, 
and adorns it with unearthly beauty. ^It is then a 
seamless, well-fitting robe, as graceful as it is simple 
— as it is one. If we then regard holiness as com- 
plex, it is composed of many virtues each shining 
with resplendent light. Take all these virtues, and 
each is a *'Gem of purest ray serene." Nay, more, 
each is a star of the first magnitude, and together 
they form a constellation without a rival in the visi- 
ble heavens, and with no superior shining in the in- 
visible sky of the moral world. Faith, hope, and 
charity; gentleness, goodness, and truth; purity, 
meekness, and temperance — these nine virtues, make 



270 Arroivsfrom Two Quivers. 

up the beauty of holiness, and with these virtues the 
worship of God must shine. They must illuminate 
the reading of the word, and they must indite the 
earnest and devout prayer. They must shed their 
radiance over the pulpit, and shine like a diadem on 
the head of the preacher. E. 



XXXI. 

LOVE NOT THE WORLD. 



"Love not the world, neither the things that are in the 
world." (1 John ii. 15.) 

THIS is a sort of wholesale prohibition. It pro- 
hibits in the grand total: "Love not the world;" 
then in the lesser particulars : " Neither the things 
that are in the world." When you set aside the 
world and all the things in the world, that doesn't 
leave much in sight to love. Then, as w^e stand with 
the space all cleared before us, we may properly ask: 
" What have we a right to love?" This is the ques- 
tion of the hour. 

1. What is our love ? In introducing the three car- 
dinal virtues the apostle adds this eulogy : " The 
greatest of these is love." Not as some say because 
love will outlive the other two, faith and hope, but 
rather because love is the embodiment of all the oth- 
ers. There are many fruits of the Spirit, but love 
embodies them all. Love is the focalizing, the cen- 
tralizing of all the excellences. Hence love leads 
and controls the entire man. 

I see a grand train running at fine speed. I say 
there are two, four, six, ten coaches, and a locomo- 
tive; but the greatest of these is the locomotive. 
Love is the locomotive in the soul, and it has all 
the other powers appended to it, as so many cars, 

(271) 



272 Arroivs from Two Quivers. 

and it draws or drives them at will. Whichever way 
the love engine in the man is running, that is the 
way the'other powers will be going. 

His thoughts, feelings, impulses, heart, head, hands, 
all go the way the locomotive goes. Here is the 
Avhole train of virtues, but the greatest of these is 
love, because it controls and carries all the rest. If 
a man's love is running toward God, then the whole 
man is going that way; if toward the world, then the 
entire man is going in that direction. 

The love-power being the chief power in the soul, 
we may understand why God is so careful as to what 
track that power shall run on. The track on which 
the love locomotive runs is the track on which the 
whole train runs. 

2. Why prohibited from loving the trorld? The rea- 
son is found in the very nature of the world. " For 
all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust 
of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, 
but is of the world; and the world passeth away." 
The prohibition is just as broad as the perishable. 
The prohibition ends where the perishable ends. He 
forbids us to love the world because it is not sub- 
stantial. He would save us from running to ruin. 
To fix the love on the world is to run the soul, with 
its train of interests, on the bridge beneath which is 
only quicksand. The lovers of the world are rush- 
ing to drive their powers into shadow, into ruin. 
What are the millions doing who are in headlong 
drive after the world? What but driving their trains 
into the sea, chasing bubbles, building air-castles, 
going to the rainbow for gold. What but wasting 
themselves. Pouring their immortality upon the air. 



Love Not the World, 273 

gathering up their God-given powers and flinging 
them out upon the mists and shadows to vanish and 
float away? 

3. Where are Napoleon, Caesar, Frederick the Great, 
Hannibal, Nero, and a thousand such mighty souls? 
Where? Poured out upon an ideal atmosphere we 
call fame, and blown away by its breath. Where are 
the souls of many who sleep in the cemetery to-night? 
Poured out upon houses and lots and merchandise — 
houses that have been pulled down to give place 
to others, merchandise long since consumed, lots now. 
held by strangers. 

We have no right to expend our heart-force on that 
which can perish, no right to commit suicide in 
this way. God has invested too much in us. If we 
were but animals, then it might be. If only birds, 
we should build above the earth; but as immortals 
we have no right to build lower than the skies. It is 
a prostitution of our Lord's investment. A wasting 
of his goods for which he will call us to account. 

4. What have ive a right to love? We have a right 
to love those things and those qualities that are im- 
mortal and undying; to love such beings as have 
those qualities. We have right to love God, angels, 
men. We have right to use the world, but not to 
love it. Employ it, appreciate it, but only as a 
means, not as an end. We are not merely to grow 
into the world and there stop, but we are to grow 
through it until the roots of our nature take hold 
upon immortal things. Stop not until you find depth 
of earth wherein you may grow forever. That is 
why we see so many withered and blasted natures. 
How often you see men and women who seem as if 

18 



274 Arrows from Tivo Quivers. 

storm and wind swept, all the true being gone from 
them — withered in soul! They have stopped in the 
world, have not reached through, have not been 
planted in God. 

5. Jesus fixed the limit. Love God supremely, and 
my fellow-man as myself. God and my fellow-man. 
It is not said that we shall love the angels. We are 
so dissociated from them by our earth-environment 
that we can know little of their nature. The angels 
have never become human yet, and God has; so we 
can get closer to him, and know him better than we 
can the angels. We are not to love devils. They 
are powerless to appreciate a pure affection. They 
can neither appreciate nor reciprocate affection. In 
their consummate wickedness they can only abuse 
love. They abused the divine, the highest love. So 
to love devils would be like loving the world, wasting 
ourselves upon the wind. 

6. But there is no tvaste in loving God. Because I 
am loving those perfections and qualities which are 
eternal. Judas thought it great waste when Mary 
poured the oil upon the Master. But Jesus said: 
" She hath wrought a good work." It was illustri- 
ous waste— illustrious because poured out upon un- 
dying perfection. Thus when you come with a heart 
broken, and pour out its wealth at the feet of the 
Master, the world, Judas-like, may say it is great 
waste; but it shall be told in eternity. In eternity 
we shall hear of the love that we pour out upon God 
day by d^y. It will not be wasted ; God will preserve 
it. He who has the prayers of his saints preserved 
in golden vials, will he not preserve our love? This 
is the treasure we are laying up in heaven. We send 



Love Not the World, 275 

ourselves back there continually by the motive power 
of love. Tell me how much active self-sacrificing 
love you have given to God, and I will tell you how 
much treasure you have in heaven. We measure 
our estate in the glory land. The love-line that we 
carry here will tell the dimensions of inheritance in 
heaven. So loving God is not wasting but saving 
the true self. The love locomotive is not dashing to 
destruction over quicksands and broken bridges, but 
running upon a rock road-bed, running upon the 
Kock of Ages, and carrying all the soul-powers to- 
ward God. Tell me the joys of that soul loving God 
supremely, running with all the powers under full 
speed toward glory and toward God. 

7. Loving our fellow men. In this we are bestowing 
our love upon qualities which are deathless. Hence 
our love is not wasted. We bestow it where it may 
be appreciated and returned. It is also a sort of 
remedy for the ilk of those whom we love. The 
first impulse toward a better life is often from some 
kindness received from one who has a measure of 
the Master's spirit. God knows the best remedy for 
fallen humanity, and when he undertook for its re- 
covery and its cure his only remedy was love, his 
only prescription was love. That was God's way to 
help humanity, and that is our way. If we make 
men better it will be only through the same sov- 
ereign remedy of love. And the cure is sometimes 
very slow even with this prescription made oat by 
God himself and filled from the apothecaries of 
heaven. The old mother sometimes has to love and 
pray a long, long while before slie sees any chan<]^e 
in the wayward boy. But the blessed old remedy 



2/6 Arrows from Ttvo Quivers. 

begins to work after awhile, and the boy has a 
strange feeling about the heart, and somehow old 
impressions come back to him, and he thinks of her 
who has loved him so long and prayed so much, and 
he begins to want to know that mother's God and 
that mother's peace; and ere it is long he is saved. 
Love saved him. Love brought him back. Love 
healed him — a Saviour's love and a mother's love 
combined. 

8. Then all may do something. Since love is the 
force, all may command it. Any one w4io can love 
can make humanity better. You say: "I can't do 
much. I can't do as I did once. I have been unfort- 
unate and have lost my property. I can't give now 
as I did then." But have you lost your power to 
love God and humanity? Then you are as strong 
for good as you have ever been, perhaps more so. I 
don't find that men have much moral power until 
they have suffered. Tour losses piay have made you 
more mighty in the moral department of your being. 
Circumstances may have changed, but so long as 
you have your power to love God and humanity, 
just that long you are at no discount for the work of 
God. Then let us do no more complaining, but go 
on loving humanity and lifting it up and making it 
bettel*. Think of it. Complaining and desponding 
while we are in possession of powers that affect 
heaven and earth. 

9.' It is the basis of the mutual help system. What a 
pitiable sort of a helpless half-thing a man is who is 
alone in the world! Adam had the best chance to be 
happy by himself that any man ever had; and yet 
the Lord got sorry for him and said: *'It is not good 



Love Not the World. 277 

for man to be alone.*' And so he mercifully put him 
to sleep, as if he didn't want him to be conscious of 
his loneliness until he could make him a companion, 
somebody to love him. They were to be helps, props 
to each other, and to this day the love-force lies at 
the foundation of marriage and hence at the foundation 
of society and of virtue. And the questions, "Will 
you love her? " " Will you lovo him? " " Will you 
give the strongest power of your being to mutual sup- 
port in the life-path? " should be answered with the 
most vigorous assent. 

And this power is invincible. When the strong 
man is in reverses and ready to fail and fall, the wife 
may prop him with love and he becomes again instinct 
with life and resolution. When either is weary and 
faint in the way the other may restore by love. When 
the heart flutters wdth disquiet or distress, soothe it 
with love. Let love come in at the time of trouble, 
and speak as did the Son of Mary to the sea, " Peace, 
be still," and there is a sweet calm. 

10. It is joyful ivork. I let my love fall upon a 
man when he is discouraged; that strengthens him 
and makes me feel better. I don't know any better 
way to get out of the blues than to go and encourage 
some despondent, sad soul. The reaction is the best 
stimulant and tonic that I have ever tried. I go into 
my garden on a hot summer evening, and the flowers 
are sick. The fuschias are w^ilted, and the geraniums 
look droopy, and the heliotropes hang their heads, 
and there is a blight on all around. I get the water- 
ing pot and begin to atomize them with the cool mist, 
and soon they begin to cheer up and lift their heads 
and smile with new life; and I feel a joy in seeing 
them get over their sickness. 



278 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

But to see a soul begin to revive under your love 
treatment, there is a joy that only one can know who 
has had the experience. As I minister to him his 
love reacts on me, and thus we help each other. The 
old Book says something aboat "building each other 
up in love." Now that is what it means. It is a 
grand sight to see a grand piece of architecture ris- 
ing in magnificent proportions toward heaven, to be 
an object of admiration for the years to come. But 
it is grander to see two souls, two immortalities, two 
breathing eternities, building each other up in love. 
That is a sort of architecture that shall stand when 
the ancient mediaeval and modern styles have gone 
back to the dust. May God make us to be master- 
builders. 

11. Hoiv am I to cease loving the world? You have 
told me what I shall and shall not love. Now tell 
me how I am to desist from loving the world. This 
is the great question of the soul. I love the world. 
It is natural with me. How am I to change from 
that which is natural? First, you must become will- 
ing to quit loving the world. And that is a question 
you must settle for yourself. I can't and God will 
not settle it for you. But when you have made up 
your mind on that point, and are not only willing 
but anxious to quit loving the world, then I can ea- 
sily direct you in the way. 

If my love, my thought, my desires, my whole 
train of powers be running toward the world, how 
am I to check and change the momentum? How 
turn this mighty train? The turn-table is at the 
cross. Its pivots are wet with redeeming blood. The 
Holy Ghost assists, and there the mightiest natures 



Love Not the World. 279 

are turned from destruction toward God. Get to the 
cross, and there the moral gravitation will change. 
The things you now love you will then hate, and the 
things you now hate you will then love. 

Seek first the kingdom of God. Be made a new 
creature at the cross, and then you will be prepared 
to enter upon the new life — ready then to love those 
beings and qualities that are imperishable. 

M. 



XXXil. 

SERMON FOR BUSINESS MEN. 



"He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver." 
(Ecclesiastes v. 10.) 

MONEY is an absolute necessity of civilization. 
It is certainly as old as Abraham, who bought 
land with money then current with the merchant. 
"Without it exchange could not be effected, except by 
barter. Without it there could be no measure of 
value. It is to exchange what labor-saving machinery 
is to agriculture or the mechanic arts. It is not 
therefore a curse, but a blessing. The inconvenience 
to which we would be subjected without money would 
be incalculable and almost intolerable. It has no in- 
trinsic value. It gratifies no natural desire. It does 
not satisfy the cravings of hunger or thirst, nor can 
we clothe ourselves with it. Its value is altogether 
exchange value. Although incompetent of itself to 
feed or clothe or shelter us, it can purchase that 
with which we may have all our natural desires sat- 
isfied. It is for this reason that it is desired. The 
demand for it is, consequently, unlimited. As long 
as there is any thing to be purchased, so long money 
will be demanded. The direct demand for other ar- 
ticles is limited by our wants. A certain amount of 
food and clothing is necessary, and when that is fully 
supplied the demand ceases. So it is with other 
(280) 



Sermon for Business Men. 281 

things. But this is not the case with money. Money 
is liable to all the mutations to which other values 
are subject. When the demand is great, money is 
high and other values comparatively low. When the 
supply is great, money is low and other values com- 
paratively high. So that money is just as much un- 
der the law of supply and demand as other articles. 
For many centuries the only universal circulating 
medium has been gold and silver. Paper is only 
current and valuable as a representative of gold and 
silver. It is on many accounts more convenient than 
the precious metals, and is therefore preferred. It 
is more portable, more easily counted and identified, 
and more readily transmitted than coin; and hence 
has largely taken the place of coin in all mercantile 
^communities. But paper is not money, and would 
be without value but for its representative character. 
It is a necessary result of the exchange of commodi- 
ties between individuals and nations. Hence the 
term silver in the text is used just as we would now 
use the word money. And in the discussion of it we 
shall endeavor to show, first, for what we may inno- 
cently desire and use money. 

1. It may be desired in order to obtain with it all 
articles needful to meet our wants. A man needs 
money that with it he may secure food and raiment; 
and as it is right for him to be fed and clothed, it is 
right for him to desire money for such purposes. 
The desire for money thus to be used is altogether 
right and proper. Nothing is more natural and 
nothing more innocent. 

2. Money may be sought to build up and increase 
one's usefulness; money employed to lessen human 



282 Arroivsfrom Two Quivers. 

misery and to increase human happiness. The very- 
possession of it gives a man position, and enables 
him to wield a wide and powerful influence. And 
then he can use it in doing good in a thousand differ- 
ent ways. He can care for the poor and have the ig- 
norant instructed. He can enlighten the savage and 
clothe the naked. He can become, like Job, eyes to 
blind and feet to the lame. He can give food to the 
hungry and medicine to the sick. He can build a 
home for the orphan, and erect asylums for the blind 
and deaf, and open a hospital for the aged and in- 
firm. He can cheer the hovel of poverty and make 
the widow's heart leap for joy. He can print and 
distribute the word of God in all tongues, and send 
it to breathe light and hope upon the dreary valley 
of moral death. He can bless his own children with 
a liberal education, and can build, equip, and endow 
colleges for the education of others. He can sustain 
the gospel at home and send it abroad. For all 
these objects, and others of a similar character, a 
man may continually increase in wealth. In all the 
Old Testament wealth is regarded as a great blessing. 
It is of itself innocent. There is no sin in being 
rich. A man may become as rich as Croesus and be 
a good man. Abraham was rich. Job was rich, and 
lost all, and God rewarded him with wealth a second 
time. Boaz was rich, and Euth was elevated by him 
to a position of wealth. These examples show that 
there is no sin in being rich. Our Saviour himself 
indicates the same truth when he says: "Seek ye first 
the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be 
added to you." Wealth is not a crime, and poverty 
is not a virtue. The former may be a means of use- 



Sermon for Business Men, 283 

fulness and of happiness, and the latter of discipline. 
Both may be employed for man's good and God's 
glory. Neither can determine a man's character, nor 
settle human destiny. The innocence or guilt arises 
from the manner in which money is used, and from 
the motive which prompts its acquisition and which 
governs its use. 

3. To waste money is a crime, and frugality is 
therefore a virtue. The prodigal is a sinner, and 
must remain unpardoned as long as he is unrepent- 
ant. The spendthrift is a sinner who wastes his sub- 
stance in riotous living, who pursues sinful pleasures 
and gratifies depraved tastes, who indulges in the 
revel and in the midnight debauch, who throws his 
money upon cards and dice; who follows boon com- 
panions to saloons and gambling hells, to dance- 
houses and to abodes where lust and covetousness 
mingle amid scenes where lewdness sends out a filthy 
ichor corrupt enough to fill the land with desolation 
and mourning. To love silver that it may be spent 
in the gratification of the lower instincts, in the se- 
duction of the young, in the pollution of innocence, 
in the sacrifice of virtue on the altar of inflamed pas- 
sions, and in the ruin of once happy homes, is a crime 
whose altitude no calculation has determined and 
whose depth no line can fathom. It is worse than 
throwing money into the sea, or burying it in the 
earth. It is moral suicide. It is treason to God, 
whose stewards we are. It is murder most foul, be- 
cause it destroys character. It is the vilest robbery, 
because it leaves its victim with virtue gone, inno- 
cence banished, and hope blasted, with the past a 
record of crime and folly and the future a scene of 



284 Arrows from Tico Quivers, 

unmitigated woes for which itself can scarce afford a 
remedy. Again, it is a great abuse of money to hoard 
it, to keep it from performing its needed functions, 
to seek it and secure it for its own sake, to bow down 
to it as to a god and worship it. The miser, who is 
just the opposite of the spendthrift, is an idolater of 
the worst description. His passions are all absorbed 
in the one great desire for money. His imagination 
is forever employed in creating visions of wealth. 
His ideal of earthly grandeur and of celestial glory 
is silver without canker and gold without wear or 
waste. Covetousness has eaten up all the moral emo- 
tions and stupefied the conscience. It has warped 
his judgment, limited his reason, and confined his 
aspirations to money. It has fixed his gaze so in- 
tently upon mammon that music has no charms, ora- 
tory no power, literature no beauty, domestic love no 
sweetness, and heaven itself no attractions. ^' Woe to 
him that coveteth an evil covetoasness to his hoase, 
that he may set his nest on high, that he may be de- 
livered from the power of evil. Thou hast consulted 
shame to thy house by cutting off many people, and 
hast sinned against thy soul. For the stone shall cry 
out of the wall, and the beam out of the timber shall 
answer it." (Habakkuk ii. 9-11.) As though the 
prophet had said the stones and beams and rafters 
and walls of the house shall utter mysterious voices 
in denunciation of him who has coveted an evil cov- 
etousness. And there is no marvel in this. For cov- 
etousness dries up the milk of human kindness, bars 
the heart to every holy emotion, blights all noble as- 
pirations, dwarfs the intellectual powers, and turns 
that man to iron. Sympathy is a stranger doomed 



Sermon for Business Men. 285 

to eternal banishment, and gushing tenderness or 
holy love can find no lodgment in his bosom. It is 
bad enougii to give up all the energies to the getting 
of money, even when some good is contemplated; 
bad enough to seek alone for money when it may be 
used for lawful purposes in the pursuit of trade; but 
it is worse a thousand- fold to look to money alone 
for satisfaction. 

Money cannot make its possessor happy. To the 
man suffering the throes of cholera, the pains of neu- 
ralgia or rheumatism, the weakness of consumption, 
of w^hat use is silver? Can it cure gout or dropsy? 
Can it prevent strokes of paralysis? Can it arrest 
the progress of fatal diseases? Alas! no. Money 
does no good to the body scorched with fever. It 
cannot restore lost health. It cannot give strength 
to a worn-out constitution. Money cannot stay the 
onward progress of death. It cannot fill the vacant 
seat which death has emptied of its once happy oc- 
cupant. It cannot bring the dead from the grave. 
It cannot soothe the sorrows that oppress the soul 
with a burden too great to be borne. It has no such 
power. Look at that rich man racked with the pains 
of gout. Why does he groan and writhe as though 
his limbs were in a vice? Cannot his money cure 
him? We know that it cannot. Money may foster 
pride, but it cannot prolong life. It may gratify 
wants, but it cannot delay grief or diminish the 
acuteness of pain. It may make men fawn and flat- 
ter you, lie and play the sycophant, but it cannot 
flatter away death nor silence the utterances of a 
guilty conscience. Do not then set your hearts on 
filthy lucre: because it cannot satisfy the thirstings 



286 Arrows from Tiro Quivers. 

of an immortal nature; because nothing is more de- 
ceitful than riches; because nothing can be more 
fleeting than wealth. It has no stability — no perma- 
nency. It takes wings and flies away. As the foun- 
dation of happiness, it is worse than yielding sand. 
As the hope of satisfaction, it is more deceptive than 
the i(/nis fatuus. Set not your heart upon wealth, 
unless you would make it hard as stone and dry as 
an Egyptian mummy. I beseech you try not an ex- 
periment which after thousands of years still turns 
the soul to bitterness and corrodes it with cares that 
eat like a cancer. 

We are an active, vigorous people. We cannot be 
idle. Many are called to be rich. I pronounce no 
anathemas upon a man simply because he is rich. I 
say that wealth involves care, involves peril, and is 
necessarily unsatisfying. But I do declare that nei- 
ther in the light of God's word nor of human reason 
am I able to see any crime in being rich. In refer- 
ence to it I urge upon you the following principles: 

Do not allow the love of wealth to root out the love 
of God, and never suffer it to become supreme. Do 
not become so engrossed with the desire for or the 
care of riches as to be unmindful of other calls. Avoid 
the very first and the least temptations to covetous- 
ness. Be attentive to business. Be conscientious in 
its discharge. Be punctual. Be merciful. Let your 
integrity be unquestioned and your word as good as 
your bond. Never defraud a human being. Never 
have a dollar upon your conscience. Be liberal. Do 
the best you can for your own family without making 
them proud or selfish. Take care of the Church and 
help the poor. Lay yourself upon the altar, and place 



Sermon for Business Men, 287 

your money with you. Do not borrow without a 
probability, nay a certainty, of paying. Keep out of 
any entangling indebtedness. Be enterprising. Urge 
forward as best you can any and all work which will 
increase the power and glory of your country. Never 
condescend to be mean and stingy. In avoiding stin- 
giness do not become a spendthrift. Take Christ 
with you in your business. Have him always with 
you. Be rich with his grace and abound in his love. 
Eiches may be deceitful, but he is true. They do 
not satisfy, but he does. With him your life must 
be a success as certain as it will be abundant. 
Shielded by him, you shall be safe amid the cares of 
poverty or the perils of wealth. He that is faithful 
in a few things shall be ruler over many things, and 
shall certainly enter into the joys of his Lord. By 
the wisdom of his counsels, by the condescension of 
his poverty, by the voice of his love, by the wants of 
his Church, I pray you consecrate all that you are 
and all that you have to him who loved you and 
gave himself for you. May his providence shield 
and his Spirit guide you unto death, and then receive 
you into glory. E. 



XXXIII. 

THE RIVER, 



" that thou hadst hearkened to my commandments ! then 
had thy peace been as a river, and thy righteousness as the 
waves of the sea." (Isaiah xlviii. 18.) 

ONE renowned for his wisdom said of God's com- 
mands: "In keeping of them there is great re- 
ward," and that reward is here put in the majestic 
language of nature. The river and the sea are used 
to express the peace and power of a God-fearing peo- 
ple. God speaks to us, then, through these mighty 
voices to instruct us in the ways of wisdom. " Heark- 
ening to my commandments, thy peace shall be as a 
river, and thy power as the waves of the sea." 

1. The position of the river. There is an expression 
of the chief grace in its very position. Humilitij is 
its distinctive feature. It is not aiming for high 
places, but is content to lie in its lowly channel at 
the feet of the mountains, and hard by the foot-hills. 
It seems satisfied to have the privilege of perpetual- 
ly washing their feet. It is willing to journey all 
the way along the lowlands and through the valleys. 
It is never in a fret because it can't climb to some 
lofty outlook and exalt itself to position. 

And nature is so adjusted that the higher things 

administer to the river. The pure snows of the 

mountains, as soon as they soften, come running 

down to the river. Each little streamlet that frets 

(288) 



The River. 289 



its way through the hills comes to add its watery 
mite to the river's volume. The early and the latter 
rains bring their alluvial wealth and lay it down upon 
the right hand and upon the left of the river. The 
river, as it flows, can look up and say: "The mount- 
ains are mine and the hills are mine, the streams 
( with the wealth of the highlands) are mine — all mine." 

2. Humility is the mark of the man of God, Willing 
to become as the little child, "to be little and un- 
known," to take the lowest place, to sit at the feet of 
things. The silent gliding of the river is as the 
work of a man of humility. Where the river is in 
an uproar and making a great fuss it is bearing no 
burden. No boat sails there. But where it is bear- 
ing the heavy-freighted steamers, there its deep flow 
is noiseless as the flight of a spirit. So the men 
who are doing the most good are the least conscious 
of it, and make least ado about it. Those who carry 
whole communities by the force of their character 
and influence do it without ostentation; but the 
man who happens to have but one poor little virtue 
is like the hen with one chicken, always clucking, 
fuming, and parading that little virtue. The man 
with true humility is like the river at the feet of the 
mountains, willing to make the whole life-march with- 
out promotion. The men in pulpit or pew w^ho are 
struggling for place and power are men of shallow 
piety. 

3. But God so adjusts things as to turn them to the 
service of the humble. Just as the mountain rills 
set toward the river, so God's providence turns all 
things to his good. " Whether life or death, or 
things present, or things to come, all are his." Each 

19 



290 Arroivs from Two Quivers. 






season, like the early and the latter rains bringin 
the rich soil from the mountains to the river-side, 
brings its treasure into his life-channel. The Nile is 
richer at its every overflow. Christian character is 
richer by the trials, pressures, and vicissitudes of each 
rolling year. All things help him; they make his 
knowledge broader, his experience richer, his hope 
brighter, and his life grander each day. 

4. Its increase in volume and power. This is con- 
stant from its beginning. Each tributary adds to 
its strength. At first a tiny, feeble rill, a pebble v/ill 
break its flow. It has not power to bear the bark 
canoe, but each meandering mile will add strength; 
and the inflow of multiplied streamlets swells it as it 
flows, until it deepens into the vast and majestic riv- 
er that bears the burden of mightiest crafts. This 
is the picture of the life of God in the soul. At 
first feeble, shallow, weak, how easily discouraged, 
how timid in meeting obstacles, how often well-nigh 
overcome! But we have run many a mile since 
then, over many rough and rocky places I dare say, 
whirled and eddied, and leaped cataracts, and some- 
times seemed well-nigh gone forever; but God has 
poured in a little stream of grace here and there, and 
we have gained strength, and now after a thousand 
meanderings the channel is deeper, the flow quiet, 
and we now bear the burdens with ease under which 
we once would have reeled and fallen. 

5. The river most burdened in its deepest parts. The 
"Old Eclipse" never went higher than Cincinnati; 
she drew too much water for a shallow stream. The 
boats get less toward the river's source. But the 
mighty vessels, w^th ponderous freight, are quietly 



The River. 291 



plying the last deep water that leads out into the 
sea. This is Christian life. The fact that you have 
gotten out into the deeper channel, where the expe- 
rience is richer and more even, is no proof that con- 
flicts are over and that burdens are at an end. The 
broad experience, like the broad boat, is built for 
the deep water and heavy cares. You may now have 
soul-scars and marks of hardness, and yet perhaps 
your colossal sorrows and giant griefs are still ahead. 
But what of that, so the grace of God is in propor- 
tion? What if the cargo sink the vessel to the wa- 
ter's surface? "What if the waves roll higher than 
the barque, only so we ride them and are not over- 
w^helmed? Be the trials ahead fierce and terrible 
as they may, they can't sink us deep enough to dis- 
turb or destroy that fathomless underflow of peace 
from God that passeth understanding. 

G. How the elements affect the river. Their effect is 
superficial. The winds raise war above it, but it 
lies down so low between the hills that the commo- 
tion is scarcely felt; and when they sweep down with 
force and fierceness, as they did upon Galilee, they 
but ruffle the surface for a little, but do not check 
the flow, or produce so much as a quiver in the quiet 
glassy depths below; and even when winter waves 
his icy wand over it, when its very bosom is frozen 
cold and hard as adamant, this doesn't affect its flow. 
Beneath its frozen surface are the deep pure waters 
still flowing on, and the living, happy flnny tribes 
sporting as though it were midsummer. " Peace as 
a river." The elements about us have only a sur- 
face effect upon our peace. The elements are not all 
favorable; the winds are contrary — often against us; 



292 Arrows from Two Quivers, 

we have flurries, financial flurries, social flurries, bus- 
iness flurries, domestic flurries, all sorts of flurries; 
but i£ we do but keep humble, and lie dov^n low be- 
tween the hills of sovereign grace, and right at the 
feet of Jesus, all these soon blow over, and the great 
deep of the soul's peace is not disturbed. 

And v/hen winter' comes, and the Church and the 
heart have their winter- times, when every thing 
seems to get cold and freeze over, then some folks 
(born to, croak) are ready to say: "The Church is 
dead — no life left." Is the river dead when frozen 
over? Are its waters less pure when under the ice? 
Dovai deep in the heart of the Church is the flow of 
peace, the purity of love, the life of faith and flrm 
hope — these are there, living as the fish in winter- 
time and full of immortality, 

7. Its flow is perpetual. Unlike the streamlet — 
swollen with the shower and running wild in the 
morning, but at noon-time exhausted, flowing in the 
flood and dried up in the drought — its flow is cease- 
less. It flowed past your childhood home. Tou 
watched its graceful gliding, angled in its waters, 
and on its bosom learned to turn the helm and wield 
the oar. Tou sported by day along its banks, and 
fell asleep at night lulled by the murmur of its wa- 
ters. Changes have come. Other things are changed. 
Early associates are gone. The old home on the 
river-side is all changed. Tou have changed. Gray 
hairs and furrows are upon your brow, and the romp- 
ing boy is now the old and time-worn man. But the 
river is not changed. Go back to early childhood 
scenes, and the river is still there, flowing smoothly 
as in other days. Day and night, winter and sum- 



The River. 293 



mer, it has been flowing. Sleep once more, where 
strangers now live, at the old home. Wake at the 
midnight honr, and its mnrmur still 3^ou hear — flow- 
ing, ever flowing. " Thy peace shall be as a river." 
You remember in early life, when first you felt that 
peace, when first you felt the inflow of the living 
water within the soul. It has followed you. Changes 
have come. Tribulations have been yours. Vicissi- 
tudes have been various. You have parted with 
most you knew then. You have changed. The so- 
briety of age has taken the place of the fire and fancy 
of youth; yet, withal, your peace has not changed ex- 
cept to get deeper and wider and richer in its flow. 
It made your days bright and your nights restful 
then, and so it sweetens the life-work and gives you 
songs in the night-time now. 

8. Your righteousness as the waves of the sea. Here 
we have the influence and moral poicer of the man of 
God. So the Spirit uses a broader figure. The 
river has not compass. It is not deep and wide 
enough. He calls the sea to serve his purpose here 
— the sea in its most majestic mood, when the winds 
have lifted up its waves — to express this idea. The 
sea with uplifted waves is the picture of the moral 
power of the soul or the Church who keeps his com- 
mandments — their power resistless as the waves of 
the sea. The vessels are the toys and the playthings 
of the waves. Let them be lifted up, as mountains 
in combat, and the grandest ship that ever graced 
the deep is but a thing of their sport. These giants 
of the sea catch and toss it heavenward, and it seems 
a dot in the murky heavens. Anon they part and 
dash it to a depth that may not be fathomed. Could 



294 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

we lift away the waters and survey old ocean's spa- 
cious bed, what noble wrecks would dot the scene — a 
submarine landscape, with the wrecks resting as dead 
warriors upon the field! These are the monuments 
of their resistless power — trophies of the waves. 

9. Such is his moral power who is in league with 
God. ^' There shall no temptation overtake him," etc. 
That soul shall have power to catch the mightiest 
temptation and toss it as the waves toss the helpless 
ship, or dash it as the ship is dashed to deep destruc- 
tion. Talk of some temptations being ''too great 
for man to withstand;" quote the well-known and 
well-worn lie of Satan, "Every man has his price;" 
apologize as you may for the rotten deeds of great 
magnates of pulpit or pew under great temptations; 
tell me "the pressure was too great" — and I repel it 
as a slander on divine grace. As well tell me of a 
ship too mighty to be tossed by the waves. His 
grace is sufficient, and if the soul be in league with 
God, these things are less than the dust of the bal- 
ance. 

10. Final proof of power. The sea, in the final day, 
will bring up the buried proof of its power. What a 
surrender, when "the sea shall give up its dead," 
and return the mighty wrecks and trophies of its 
power! This will be one of the most tragic features 
of the final scene. Likewise, in that day shall be 
brought to light the mighty temptations we have 
overcome. " Hidden things shall be revealed." Like 
the ship which went down in mid-ocean at midnight, 
and none were left to tell the tragic tale, the mighti- 
est temptations we have ever met were unseen of all 
but God, overcome and sunk in the life-depths to be 



The River. 295 



known only in the da^^ of God. The unchronicled 
deeds of God's warriors — these things will make up 
the tragedy of that day, not the rehearsal of the 
plays well worn and stale, bnt the unfolding of 
dreams known only to the actors and to God. 

11. There ivill then he seen the glory of the world 
that Christ refused; the throne of Egypt that Moses 
refused; Nebuchadnezzar's idob and honors that 
Daniel refused; the honors of the Church that Paul 
refused; the wealth, pleasure, the court corruption, 
that the holy of all ages have refused — these things, 
with all the infernal inventions for the destruction 
of souls, with the equipage of the powers of darkness 
that Christianity has captured. What a scene it will 
be! I have seen a victorious army in its march, as 
it piled and burned the captured stores and muni- 
tions, but language is too lame to portray this last 
conflagration — when the prince of darkness finally 
surrenders, and hell's munitions of war shall light 
the world for the last grand scene. Brethren, let us 
hurl and help others to hurl their temptations and 
their false gods into destruction daily. Add some- 
thing to the pile of ruins that shall at last attest the 
conquering power of the Son of God. Ours is a 
battle, but a grand one. But while we keep his com- 
mandments, our peace shall be as a river and our in- 
fluence and power as the waves of the sea. M. 



XXXIV. 
THE BOOK UNSEALED. 



"And I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals, and I 
heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts 
saying. Come and see. And I saw, and behold a white horse : 
and he that sat on him had a bow ; and a crown vf as given unto 
him : and he went forth conquering, and to conquer. And when 
he had opened the second seal, I heard the second beast say, 
Come and see. And there went out another horse that was red ; 
and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from 
the earth, and that they should kill one another : and there was 
given unto him a great sword. And when he had opened the 
third seal, I heard the third beast say. Come and see. And I 
beheld, and lo, a black horse; and he that sat on him had a 
pair of balances in his hand. And I heard a voice in the midst 
of the four beasts say, A measure of wheat for a penny, and 
three measures of barley for a penny ; and see thou hurt not the 
oil and the wine. And when he had opened the fourth seal, I 
heard the voice of the fourth beast say. Come and see. And I 
looked, and behold a pale horse : and his name that sat -on him 
was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given 
unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, 
and with hunger and with death, and with the beasts of the 
earth." (Revelation vi. 1-8.) 

nnHE visions of John in Patmos are awfully grand 
-^ and wonderfully mysterious. They have no par- 
allel in literature. They have not only claimed the 
attention of learned commentators in all ages of the 
Church, but they have inspired genius and evoked 
some of the highest productions of art. His first vis- 
ion was that of the Son of God walking amidst the 
seven golden candlesticks. His second was exceed- 
(296) 



The Book Unsealed, 297 



ingly complex, and consisted of a throne set in heaven, 
and one sat upon the throne. He was to look upon 
like a jasper and a sardine stone; and there was a 
rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto 
an emerald. Around the throne were f our-and-twenty 
seats, and upon them f our-and-twenty elders sitting, 
clothed in w^iite raiment and with crowns of gold 
upon their heads. And before the throne was a sea 
of glass like unto crystal, and in the midst of the 
throne were four beasts full of eyes, and they rest 
not day and night, saying. Holy, holy, holy. Lord 
God Almighty, w^hich was, a^d which is, and which is 
to come. Then he saw in the right hand of him that 
sat upon the throne a book written, and sealed with 
seven seals. And he saw a strong angel proclaiming 
with a loud voice, Who is worthy to open the book 
and to loose the seals ? And no man was able. John 
wept; and one of the elders said: "Weep not; behold 
the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath 
prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven 
seals thereof." Then he beheld the Lamb as he took 
the book, and opened one of the seals, and he saw 
and beheld a white horse, and he that sat on him 
had a bow, and a crown was given unto him, and he 
went forth conquering and to conquer. I under- 
stand the sealed book to be the book of God's provi- 
dence. When the seal is broken, John sees the dif- 
ferent instrumentalities employed to carry out the 
designs which a finite mind may not question, and is 
hardly able to understand. 

The white horse and his rider represent a pure 
Christianity. The horse is chosen as the emblem 
of power and speed. 



298 Arroivsfrom Two Quivers. 



1. Christianity has within it all the elements of great 
power. It has the power of truth. Truth is power- 
ful, and remains unharmed amid the most determined 
and violent opposition, and by its own inherent vi- 
tality pushes its way through prejudice and passion, 
through the darkness of ignorance and the folly of 
fanaticism, to the people sitting in darkness and in 
the region and shadow of death. As immortal as 
its great Author, its power is well nigh omnipotent. 
Originating in the bosom of God, it has its home 
in the heart of Christianity, from which no oppo- 
sition can dislodge it and no demonism can exor- 
cise it. There it is, and there it will remain forever. 
It strikes in every pulsation, vibrates in every nerve, 
and thrills in every moral fiber of our holy religion. 
Without it religion is a sham, God a nullity, and 
man an orphan. Without it the Bible would have 
no claims and the Church no beautv. It is the foun- 
dation of our faith, the light of our hope, the dream 
of our childhood, and the joy of our age. It is at 
once the offspring of God, the brightest star on the 
sky of eternity, and the mighty centripetal force 
which holds Christianity indissolubly fastened to the 
throne set in heaven. 

2. Christianity has the power of love surpassing 
all other love. Love flames in the incense that burns 
in Christian hearts. It gushes in sacred melody; it 
flashes in all the precious promises; it is mingled with 
every providence, and makes up all of human re- 
demption. It gave the Son of God to be the propi- 
tiation for the sins of the whole world. It opened to 
the nations the great gospel dispensation, and gave 
the invitation to all of earth's sighing sons of sor- 



The Booh Unsealed, 299 



row and of crime, to " Come, for all things are now 
ready." 

3. Christianity has a still higher power, the power 
of the Holy Spirit. The whole system is interpene- 
trated by the Holy Ghost. 

It is the Spirit, glowing in truth and warming in 
love, that reaches the intellect and touches the heart. 
It was the Spirit that breathed upon the dark night 
of chaos, and order reigned and darkness fled like 
night before the rising sun. It is the Spirit that 
breathes upon the dark chaos of man's moral nature, 
and order reigns in all his passions, and light gleams 
through all the dark passages of his soul. The white- 
ness of the horse represents the purity of our divine 
system. White is nearly always the symbol of pu- 
rity. So we speak of the white throne, and the white 
robes, etc. 

4. Christianity is pure. It has no spot or stain; it 
is without fault. Born of God, it bears his image 
and shines in his likeness. It is all pure. In pre- 
cept and in promise, in doctrine, in law, in the prin- 
ciples it inculcates and in the emotions which it stirs, 
it is all pure. White, spotless white, is the proper 
symbol of a system whose purity is as fresh and un- 
soiled to-day as the snow upon the tops of the mount- 
ains, and which will remain uncontaminated by the 
breath of sin while countless ages roll. The robes 
of Christianity will retain their whiteness as long as 
God sits upon his throne, and the voice of the many 
angels around the throne is heard, saying, " Blessing 
and honor and glory and power be unto Him that 
sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb forever 
and ever." The royal appearance of him that sat 



300 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

upon the white horse denotes his royal authority. 
Christ is our King. All authority belongs to him. 
His crown is untarnished, his throne is stainless and 
pure. He has no rival, and all opposition to his au- 
thority is as wicked as it must at last prove unavail- 
ing. The Father hath said "I will give thee the 
heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts 
of the earth for thy possession. They shall perish, 
but thou remainest. They all shall wax old as doth 
a garment, and as a vesture shalt thou fold them up; 
but thou art the same, and thy years shall not fail. 
The bow and arrows, and the going forth conquering 
and to conquer, indicate the aggressive power of 
Christianity. It is the great image-breaker of the 
world. It puts out the fires on heathen altars and 
hushes the oracles which superstition deified for 
thousands of years. It crushes the idols which have 
long held sway over the minds of the ignorant, and 
undermines the very foundations of the temples in 
which their infamous orgies are held. It pushes its 
conquests beyond the borders of civilization, and 
pours the effulgence of its light and the riches of 
its blessings upon the great moral Saharas which 
serve only to add to the gloom of earth, and to in- 
crease its dreariness. The cross, its sacred symbol, 
is to-day catching the rays of every rising and of ev- 
ery setting sun. It stands as a beacon light upon 
every shore, and throws out its radiance over the 
dark and tempestuous sea on which our race has suf- 
fered shipwreck. It is as uncompromising as it is 
iconoclastic. Against all false religions and op- 
posed to every form of vice it moves steadily forward 
to the conquest of the world. No barrier can stop its 



The Book Unsealed. 301 



progress, and no opposition can prevent its final tri- 
umph. 

5. Another seal is broken. Another horse, that 
was red, went forth. Providence is revealed in an- 
other form as frightful as the other was sublime. 
War is now symbolized. He becomes the God of 
battles. As the wheels of his providence move on 
he employs war with garments rolled in blood to 
carry out his strange designs and accomplish his 
wonderful purposes. This is a most vivid representa- 
tion of war. Power is given to the red horse to take 
peace from the earth. War is a horrible scourge. 
It engenders the worst vices. It inflames the most 
violent passions. It is the greatest enemy of civil- 
ization. It produces countless sorrows. In its pres- 
ence wealth and law and order disappear. From its 
grim visage virtue and truth flee away, and happi- 
ness and peace are banished. It is the savage en- 
emy of all righteousnsss, and the remorseless de- 
stroyer of human life. Its path is destruction. It 
sweeps like the hurricane and carries all before it. 
With a fury like the ravings of the volcano, it car- 
ries desolation along its blood-stained path. It feeds 
on the ruin of states and the downfall of empires. 
With fire and sword it spreads dismay along the 
whole line of its march. Cities are consumed, and 
fruitful fields no longer wave their rich harvests, 
and want takes the place of smiling plenty. Its curse 
falls with the most blighting effect upon the wretched 
inhabitants of countries involved in the fearful strug- 
gle, and is felt more or less by the most distant na- 
tions. Its heritage is the heritage of woe. It is the 
prolific source of widowhood and orphanage. Under 



302 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

its power men become tigers, and the thirst for hu- 
man blood is absolutely ungovernable. Its terrible 
chorus is the roar of cannon, the rattle of musketry, 
the scream of shells, answered by the groan of the 
dying and the v/ail of the bereaved. It calls the 
world to a feast of human blood, and all its trophies 
are literally dabbled in human gore. Its monuments 
are formed of human bones, and all its pomp and cir- 
cumstance are sound and fury, expressive of little be- 
yond human calamity. It has shed oceans of blood 
and destroyed countless millions of wealth. And yet 
God employs this fearful scourge to turn man from 
his wickedness and lead the nations to himself. As 
the skillful mariner avails himself of adverse winds 
to drive his vessel to the desired port, so God turns 
war itself to good account, and makes it one of the 
mighty forces in his hand to advance that which is 
best calculated to destroy. Man proposes and God 
disposes. The red horse, the symbol of war, is made 
to move in harniony with the white horse, the em- 
blem of peace. "Wrath combines with love to bring 
man to God. Two forces as opposite as the centrip- 
etal and the centrifugal combine to make the moral 
world move in its appointed orbit. The wonderful 
wheels of Providence all move right on to the accom- 
plishment of the infallible will of the Almighty. 

6. The third seal is opened. Lo, a black horse, and 
he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his 
hand. Then follows the despairing cry: "A measure 
of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley 
for a penny, and see thou hurt not the oil and the 
wine." It is the picture of famine — black famine. It 
follows the bloody picture of war. Want, craving 



The Book Unsealed. 303 

want, unsatisfied hunger, men and women left to 
starve; poor cliildren famishing, and without even 
the husks of the prodigal to feed upon — all these 
follow in the track of war. The black horse follows 
the red. Famine comes after the sword. The ge- 
nius of famine, lean, hungry and gaunt, follows the 
genius of war — grows fat on human flesh. One kills 
outright, the other kills by slow degrees. One sheds 
human blood, the other dries it up. Both bring in- 
calculable woe, and fill the world with incalculable 
suffering. And yet the ruler of nations makes the 
cruelties of war end in the songs of peace, and the 
horrors of famine are by his power converted into 
the joys of harvest. He makes famine the instru- 
ment to cause the nations to learn righteousness, and 
fill the world with gladness and . praise. His very 
scourges are sent in mercy, and by his sovereign love 
he converts the murmurings of earth to the harmo- 
nies of heaven. If by his own great power he with- 
holds the rain and the sunshine, he does it that the 
poverty of earth may be finally exchanged for the 
abundance of paradise restored. 

7. The fourth seal is opened, and behold a pale 
horse. Death sat upon him, and Hell followed with 
him. Death on the pale horse moves over the earth 
" to kill with the sword and with hunger and with 
death." The horse is still the symbol of power, and 
that power is wielded by the stalwart arm of death, 
the destroyer of kings and of kingdoms. Its re- 
sources are immense, and its conquests have been 
commensurate with its resources. Its victims are 
confined to no rank, and belong to every age. It 
moves on the wings of the tempest and treads in the 



304 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

earthquake. It strikes in the thunderbolt, and threat- 
ens in the storm. It desolates the palace, and fills 
the cottage with its ravages. It strikes down youth 
and palsies age. It makes the eye dim and the ear 
deaf. It pales the cheek of health, and chills the hot 
blood of life. It depopulates the city, and fills the 
vast cemetery with its countless victims. It comes 
in the frost of winter, in the flowers of spring, in the 
fruits of autumn, and in the hot breath of summer. 
It silences the tongue of the orator, and hushes the 
voice of the sweet singer. We may fear it, but we 
cannot avoid it. No darkness can hide us from 
death, and no locks or bolts can keep out the pale 
horse and his rider. The visits of the great destroyer 
may be unwelcome, but they are sure to come. 
Armed with a scythe, the monster mows down gen- 
eration after generation with a rapacity which noth- 
ing but the conquest of the race can satisfy. It is 
as universal as the human race, and as ubiquitous as 
Divine Providence. It is one of the instruments 
which God in his providence wields for the good of 
man. It is personified in the vision, and presented 
as a mighty conqueror riding upon a livid horse and 
swaying a scepter whose very touch brings dust to 
dust, earth to earth, and ashes to ashes. Yet this 
monster so cruel and this tyrant so terrible is made 
in the vision to move along in the same line with the 
white horse, whose rider goes forth with his crown 
and sword, his bow and arrows, to make the moral 
conquest of the world. 

The lesson, then, of the entire vision is that Provi- 
dence is uniform, and that its aim is one. Its instru- 
ments are as various as life and death, as the gospel 



Tlie Book Unsealed, 305 



of peace and the red hand of war, as the blessings of 
life and the cup of death, yet they are all directed to 
the accomplishment of the grand design to save re- 
bellious man. 

Providence is wonderful. It is complicated, and 
yet it is one. It is the one great mind guiding 
events and controlling issues, so as to accomplish 
most of good for a world in revolt. It was revealed 
to Ezekiel in a picture of wheels within wheels mov- 
ing straight on to the consummation of the grand 
purpose of Him who has his way with the armies of 
heaven and among the nations of the earth. In this 
vision of John Vv'e see four horses moving in concert, 
governed by one great mind and carrying out his un- 
erring plans. What a scene is here! Christianity 
takes the lead. The white horse, unchecked by bri- 
dle or curb, circling round the world and making his 
conquests among all nations, is closely followed by 
the red horse pawing in the valley, snuffing the breeze 
afar off, and with sounding bugle and clashing arms 
bringing dismay and ruin. Then, following at his 
heels is the black horse, and he that sat on him has 
the balances in his hand, and cries: ''A measure of 
wheat for a penny; . . . and see thou hurt not the oil 
and the wine." The wail of want comes as the un- 
dertone to the tramp of w^ar. And last of all, but 
close in the rear, follow the pale horse and his rider, 
with mowing scythes and nodding plumes. Along 
the ages, around the centuries, over the continents, 
and across the seas they move, gathering strength as 
they go, swifter than light, awful as eternity, and ter- 
rible as human destiny. Never did they appear 
more terrible. The world is agitated. The nations 
20 



306 Arrows from Two Quivers. 

are moved. The seas rage and the waves roar. The 
great world shakes under their rapid march. The 
end comes. Hell follows. Destiny is fixed. The 
wheels of providence stop. The horses disappear. 
The judgment sets, and the vision of Providence 
closes amid its fires. E. 






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